***Well, here is a nice Father/Daughter chat between Spike and Faith
Family Ties II
Chapter 8
My Daughter, The Hero II
Faith waited patiently by the door for five minutes before she entered the training room. She vaguely listened to the sound of flesh on canvas though her attention was trained on the immediate dangers of a potential hangnail and she studied it meticulously, entering the training room after she heard the frustrated sigh of her future father.
"Knock, knock," she said, her lips pursed in a brilliant smile, "can I come in?"
Spike sat with his back against the far wall, head in his hands and didn't look up at Faith's voice. "Was wonderin' if you were gonna stay outside the door all day." He tried to sound snarky though it came out more along the lines of tired. Tired and frustrated. Tired of the sacrifices necessary for his slayer to make for the world to be safe. Frustrated that, despite his love and devotion to her and the Nibblet, he was ultimately powerless to take her pain away.
"Well," Faith said as she walked over to him and sat cross-legged in front of Spike. "Wanted to give you some time alone so, you know, you could finish pummeling the poor, defenseless heavy bag over there."
Spike looked up at her amused tone and said defensively, "I did not pummel the bag, luv." She stared at him humorously before nodding her head towards the training tool.
"I think said victim of your frustrations would beg to differ." He opened him mouth to reply but clamped it shut when he registered the disrepair of the bag.
"Told ya," Faith smirked and Spike couldn't help but smile at her smugness. It reminded him so much of the look he often gave Buffy—the look that irritated the slayer to no end.
"Guess I rubbed off on you just the same," he muttered to himself.
"What do you mean?" Faith asked.
"Jus' that look you gave me a minute ago. Same one I give the slayer quite a bit. Surprised the chit hasn't staked me for it yet," he chuckled.
"Well, yeah," the slayer mused, "there were a few times growing up where I thought that you guys were gonna kill each other. I mean, it's kinda funny now that I'm older but then," she shuddered, "I was so scared sometimes."
Spike wrinkled his eyebrows in concern and he instinctively cupped her cheek in his hand. He smiled when she purred in content and laid her hand atop of his.
"I'm sorry, luv," he said sincerely. "I can't believe that we'd fight like that in front of you." As much as he loved Buffy, there was no doubt in his mind that they would undoubtedly get into some intense…altercations. But not even he could conceive the notion that they would go at it in front of a younger Faith.
"Hey," she said and swatted him on the arm, "you're brooding. You're starting to remind me of…" at the horrid glare he graced her with, Faith shut her mouth, knowing that she had screwed up.
"Dad," she reached for him but her fingertips only brushed against the leather duster as the vampire moved out of reach.
Cursing her stupidity, Faith jumped up and walked over to the slumped shoulders of her father. She could sense the tension and heartache radiate through him and knew that he was in one of his moods and as much as she could break through her father's defenses, even she had trouble pulling him up from these particular doldrums. So she did what she always had done when he was like this: she waited.
For all his concentration and determination, Spike could barely staunch the tears from falling.
"Angel," he whispered after several minutes of silence. "It's always Angel." He punctuated the last part by slamming his hand into the wall. Plaster and blood flew and the disgusting sound of bone and concrete meeting reverberated through the room.
"What the hell?!" Faith shouted, the thunderous sound jarring her from her internal thoughts. She grabbed Spike by the shoulder and whirled him around, her anger at him overwhelming her sympathies for the moment. She stared down at his bloodied hand and turned fiery emerald and cerulean eyes toward the face of the vampire and the anger immediately drained from her.
The usually intense steel blue eyes glazed over in a watery stare and his face was transfixed in a bitter smile. He wiped his brow absently with his good hand and shook his head, never taking his eyes off his injured hand.
Faith was at a loss what to do. She had only been privy to this self-inflicting behavior only once in her life. She was thirteen and was spending the night over at Willow and Tara's when she realized that she had left the number to her crush, Michael Collins, at home. Though all logic dictated that she should just call and ask her parents to look it up, she didn't want them scrounging around in her room nor did she want the third degree from her overprotective dad. So she had slipped out, confident that she'd be gone twenty minutes at the most. As she crept through the backyard, hopeful that her dad wouldn't sense her (a fact she did not think of until the backyard was in view), she was just about to streak across the yard when the backdoor flew open and an obvious distraught vampire stalked down the steps. With a roar that terrified her, Spike had slammed his hand into the tree. She was horrified by the sickening thud of wood on flesh but was shaken to her core when he repeated the action several times until she could discern not a bit of alabaster skin on his hand as it was covered in blood. Her stomach seized and threatened to eject the pizza and ice cream she had had earlier until her father did something she had never seen.
He fell to his knees and wept like frightened child. The sight of her father crumpled in obvious anguish tore at Faith's heart and she was about to rush from the bushes when her mother came out, tears in her eyes as well. She had known immediately that there had been a fight and, from the looks of it, Buffy had hit a nerve.
She watched from her position as her mother wrapped her arms around Spike, who at first refused the comfort. But as she whispered to him "Baby, I am so sorry. Please forgive me. Please don't hate me, I love you so much," he lurched into her arms, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. Through her tears, Faith saw Buffy rain kisses on top of Spike's platinum locks. She was about to turn and leave when Buffy happened to look up and their gazes locked.
For one brief moment, Faith felt nothing but disgust for the woman who had given birth to her until she forced herself to look deeper into Buffy's eyes. When she saw it, her heart went out to her mother. In her gaze was that same blinding fear, that same bone weary regrets that had permeated the air when Buffy begged Spike's forgiveness. She was so afraid. Whatever had been said had terrified her into thinking that she would lose Spike and now, knowing that her daughter had witnessed at least a portion of it, Buffy was sure that Faith would hate her.
As much as she didn't want to forgive Buffy so quickly, the words on her Grandfather Giles' tombstone flashed in her mind…
Forgiveness is not given because it is deserved. It is given because it is needed.
Faith held her mother's pleading gaze and, willing her love and forgiveness to shine through, the teen's lips curved in a tight smile as tears simultaneously slipped from her eyes. She saw her mother pull Spike even closer to her and Faith took that as a cue to leave.
As she delicately fingered Spike's injured hand, Faith remembered that moment as the last big fight her parents had had. After that, all arguments were settled within a day, complete with obnoxious kissing and other things that Faith so did not want to imagine.
Buffy had talked to her daughter the next day though Faith never found out what Buffy had said. To her, it didn't matter, as long as Spike didn't hold it against her, she was--not exactly okay with it--but she would deal.
And that's what had to be done now.
Faith placed her arms around the distracted vampire and led him to the bench against the wall. She sat next to him and gingerly cradled his injured hand in her lap.
"So," she quipped, hiding her own pain, "did it help?"
Spike, who had been staring at his hand in hers the entire time, finally looked up at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. He sighed tiredly before plastering a wry grin on his immaculate features.
"Well," he drawled, "it did for a minute. Course, that's the way with satisfaction, ya know? Never lasts long enough and when it is over—always repercussions."
Faith scrunched her nose and eyed him in disgust. "Please tell me you're not talking about what I think you are…"
Faith's comment had the effect of pulling the vampire from his malaise and he chuckled lightly. "No worries, pet," he said amiably, "don't wanna sully my girl's virgin ears."
"As if. It's not like I haven't already been scarred for life by you and Mum goin' at it." She shook her head, distraught. "My fragile mind will never heal from the trauma." Spike studied her serious face for a moment before both of them burst into raucous laughter.
After several minutes, father and daughter wiped the tears from their eyes and, without thought, Spike choked out from his mirth, "No way in bloody hell you could be the poofter's daughter." That simple statement had the effect of sobering both individuals up and Faith was disappointed to see the return of Spike's morose countenance.
"Da'…" She began but Spike silenced her with a wave of his hand.
"No worries, Bitlet," he went for a casual tone but failed miserably. "S'not like I'm not the one that gets to raise you." He ran his good hand through her close-cropped hair affectionately and she smiled sadly. The despair of not being able to be called her real father was weighing on Spike and Faith was acutely aware of it. She was on the cusps of telling him the truth before she remembered the warning given to her by Emerald.
Truthfully, she didn't understand the relevance of Spike finding out that Faith was his daughter, but Faith would trust Emerald's word for now; it wasn't as if she had a choice. Or did she? After all, there was a big-time battle ahead and she didn't want him to be distracted by that extra bit of knowledge. No, she would say nothing now, but after everything was over…what else had Emerald told her?
You always have a choice…
Those simple words gave her the confidence she needed and there was no doubt in her mind to tell him everything after this nightmare was over.
She squeezed his shoulder firmly and greeted him with a warm smile and he returned with one that almost reached his eyes. Faith knew how her father could sometimes get, often times more moody than her mother. But unlike five minutes ago, his present dejection could be handled by simple distraction.
"You know," she said cheerfully and snaked her arm through his, "Mum always said that you were even more stubborn now than when I was around. And you know something? She was so right."
Spike jerked his head to the side and with furrowed brows, he regarded his Bitlet. "Stubborn?" He asked in disbelief. "The Slayer has the temerity to call someone stubborn. Will wonders never cease," he muttered to himself.
"Well, you are," she said petulantly and purposely pushed her lip out in a pout.
"Awww c'mon, Bitlet," Spike moaned. The pout was something he could never resist, be it from Dru's petty ramblings to Dawn's begging eyes, once the pout was in effect, the Big Bad was bad no more.
"Okay, so maybe I am a tad bit…headstrong but…" Faith's brief cackle interrupted him. "Mind telling me what's so funny?"
Faith smiled internally, ecstatic that he seemed to be coming around, but externally she made with the satisfied smirk. "So you agree? That you are pigheaded."
"I should think not!" He shouted indignantly. "Your Mum is definitely the proud owner of that particular title. Just because I may at times be disagreeable does not mean that I am a pigheaded little bint that doesn't know the truth if it bit her on her peachy arse." With each word, Spike's voice had risen an octave and now, he stood in front of Faith, panting unnecessarily. "What?" He asked at her smug look until it dawned on him. "That's bloody unfair, Bitlet," and he slumped back into the chair, unconsciously resting his injured hand in her lap again.
"I had to do something, Daddy. I mean you were heading into dangerous territory."
"S'not like I haven't been there before," he whispered. His eyes began to take on the glassy look but Faith reached out and held his chin firmly in her hand before he could drop it.
"Don't," she commanded and Spike's pain lessened.
"Why? I'm tellin' the bleedin' truth." He grabbed a fistful of hair in frustration before yanking his hand clear of his tousled locks. "I've existed for a century and a half, and all I've known--in life and in undeath--has been pain. Pain and suffering: both physical and mental. Whether I was the one dishing it out or someone else was the one wrenching the knife into my gut." He laughed humorlessly. "Hell, every woman I have ever loved has broken my heart. Cecily had the honor of being the first. Then there was Dru. I was with her a hundred years, but she got tired of me. Said I wasn't 'evil enough', that I had the slayer's scent all over me. And we won't even get started on your Mum. Only reason the Nibblet hasn't is because she's not old enough."
"I haven't," Faith said, forgetting all pretenses.
"What?"
"I haven't. Broken your heart."
"Only a matter of time, luv," he muttered and found himself deposited onto the floor.
Spike stared up into the eyes of a pissed off slayer and, if it weren't for the tension that roared from her, he would have laughed at the glaring similarities between this young woman and her mother.
"Jesus," Faith declared, her hands angrily thrust against her hips and she stared at her father incredulously. "Is that all you think about? How bad you're gonna get hurt next?"
Spike had the decency to look ashamed though his words did not change his sentiments. "Why not? That's what always happens."
"Well, maybe if you didn't fixate so much on 'it' happening, then maybe 'it' wouldn't happen. Did you ever think of that?" She waited several seconds and when it was obvious that he wasn't going to reply, she continued, though her voice did not hold the blatant hostility.
"Life is a funny thing like that, Daddy. You expect something to happen for good or ill, the more you think about it, the greater the possibility it is that it will happen."
"So, what? Am I supposed to think shiny, happy thoughts? News flash, kid, there ain't nothin' shiny or happy about this sodding world. You don't stay alive as long as I have puttin' your faith into hopes and dreams." He stared at her, unflinchingly, ignoring the pain in his hand and the greater pain of his heart shattering at the thought that this woman was not from his loins. Even still, he was so proud of her right now, the swell of pride fought valiantly against the agony of coming in second to Angel once more.
Instead of spitting back in a matching tone, Faith spoke softly though the words seemed to echo through the room. "So why do you stay with Mum?"
Any confrontational feelings Spike had deflated at the simple question and he lowered his head. There was no reply he could give, no honest answer, no snarky retort that'd make sense. Not to him at least. How could he when he had endured countless beatings and gut-wrenching beratings at the hands and lips of Buffy? How could he take the degradation whenever she felt like it and still remain? How could he look at her the same way--full of love and no hint of resentment in his gaze--after she had almost killed him in the alley? How could he not hate her for spitting those three words--'you're beneath me'--that had almost destroyed him more efficiently than a stake ever could? No matter what she did, what she said to him, he remained and loved her just as much afterwards. But that still did not answer the question of why?
"Because I love her," he whispered to himself.
Even with her inherent vampiric hearing, Faith barely made out what Spike said. She smiled softly at his words and sat down in front of him.
"Even after all of the things she has done to you?" He nodded. "Even after all the terrible things she has said to you?" He nodded again. Faith scooted beside him and leaned her head against his shoulder. Taking the cue, Spike wrapped his arm around Faith and pulled her closer but he said nothing. He knew that she wasn't finished and he decided that, for once, he would listen.
"You can have hope that a woman who has, for most of your relationship, debased, degraded and physically abused you--a woman that you have tried to kill on several occasions and vice versa--you have hope that she will one day love you?"
"If you put it that way…"
"Why?"
Why? That was the question he asked himself after leaving her on the porch that night. He had been intent on killing her, sod the chip, but couldn't at seeing her pain. He asked himself why every minute that she denied that the two kisses meant anything. He asked himself why the morning after, when she had called him 'convenient'. Asked himself why after she had left him beaten and bloodied in the alley, an inch away from unconsciousness--never checking to see if he made it out before the sun rose much less apologizing for it. He had asked the heavens why, after she had broken his heart and ended what, in theory, was, albeit grainy, a relationship. Every time he cursed her and himself, the Initiative and Dru, the answer always ended up the same. Despite understanding that his chances to gain her love were all but nonexistent, he still hoped. To him, the reason was quite simple.
"Because," he said after a heavy sigh, "hope is the only thing that keeps me alive."
Faith smiled into his coat and squeezed his knee. "That's exactly what you told me when I was little."
He couldn't help but smile at her statement. "Fancy that, somebody actually listenin' to some good old fashioned Spike advice." His arm nestled her even closer into his body.
"Yeah. Except the one actually giving said advice." She glanced up at him, adorning her resolve face, a gift from her Auntie Willow, to crumble any of his objections. "I'm serious, Dad. Giving advice is good, especially when it's from someone like you, who serves up the truth like some five-star restaurant maitre d'. But as long as you are giving good advice, you might as well take it because after awhile, once you stop believing your own advice, people are gonna pick up on that and stop listening. But most importantly, you'll stop living."
"Been doin' that for sometime now, luv."
Faith rolled her eyes but did not comment on that. "You are so full of life and energy and it's infectious. I bet you don't even know the effect you have on people."
"That I do, pet. The look o' disgust's usually a dead giveaway."
"Stop it!" She yelled, causing Spike to flinch ever so slightly. "God, is that all you think about? How bad and terrible you are?"
"I'm a vampire, luv. Bad and terrible's in my design. Just a fact."
"And is it 'just a fact' that a fifteen year old girl calls you best friend? Or that you went up against a hell god and withstood torture for that same girl? Is that 'design' that you refer to responsible for you loving your natural enemy? Or better yet, her loving you?" She saw a bright light click in his eyes but continued her rant. "What? You don't think she can?"
"That a trick question, pet?"
"Do you think that I would be here if you two stubborn freaks weren't madly in love with each other?" As the words flew out of her mouth, Faith silently cursed herself and hoped that Spike ignored her slip.
"Oh right," he spat sarcastically, oblivious to the slipup. "Buffy was so in love with me that she shags Peaches just long enough to make a baby. And what happens after that? Me, the great bloody git that I am, welcome her back with open arms." Faith barely held her anger in check at the callousness of her words but she held her tongue, waiting for Spike to finish.
Ever since he had found out that Angel was Faith's daughter, a small hole slowly grew within him and it was filled with every emotion associated with his grandsire; pain, torture, embarrassment, despair, rage, inadequacy and--most of all--jealousy and envy. For a hundred years Spike stayed by Drusilla and they gallivanted across the globe: China, Russia, South America--even Africa. They had murdered and fed with impunity, together. And despite her psychotic episodes, Dru adored him, that much he knew. But as much as he reveled in that, his body, mind and heart burned with the knowledge that she would never love him, for her heart had, and always would, belong to her one and only Sire. Everyday he spent with her was a reminder of that fact. Every time she wailed for her Daddy's return, a piece of Spike would be chipped away though he had always repressed it with false bravado and indifference. But now, knowing that the man he hated and envied above all others gave life to the young woman by his side--a woman he had already come to love unconditionally--the pain could no longer be ignored. He could not, would not, indulge his masochistic fancies to gauge how much more it could hurt and think about Angel together, one last night, with the love of Spike's existence. He was strong, but not strong enough to withstand that.
He stared up at the ceiling, his breaths coming in ragged sighs, willing blinders to cover his wandering thoughts. But just as they were erected, he caught a flash, a tiny wisp of emotion that told him all he needed to know but didn't want to hear.
"She'll never love me," he whispered, a fatigue unlike anything he had ever felt settled upon his shoulders, replacing the guilt that had been lifted earlier in the morning. "She may respect me, depend on me--hell, she may even come to care for me. But she'll never love me."
Faith sighed deeply, unable to form words out of her heartache at seeing the man she loved above all others so defeated. She had promised herself that she would tell him everything after tonight, but she had to do something now to piece him together before he was too far-gone.
"Listen Dad," she said, and her arm wrapped lovingly around his waist, "I'm not gonna sit her and tell you that things are gonna be just peachy for you and Mum. There are still a lot of things you two have to get through before you find contentment in each other's arms. Hell, even then, your very natures will still run interference now and again but, in the end, things'll work out."
Spike flashed a grin, heartened by his daughter's words, though he didn't necessarily share her optimism.
"They do," he said longingly, "if you make them."
"There you go," she said brightly and hoisted them both to their feet. Spike yelped in surprise but couldn't hold in the joy at seeing Faith's radiant smile. "Chin up now. All you needed is a little…"
"Don't say it," he admonished, barely hiding his amusement. "You say it, Bitlet and I will chase you to the ends of the bloody earth if I have to."
Faith looked hurt and dropped her eyes. The platinum blond cursed, thinking she didn't catch the mirth behind his words and grabbed her gently by the shoulders.
"Faith, honey. I was just…" but before he could get another word out, his world spun and he now stared up at the ceiling, dazed. Cautiously, he started to rise but felt a jarring weight land on his midsection and he instinctively exhaled.
"Bloody hell," he muttered and lifted his head up enough to figure out the unmoving object keeping him down. Blue eyes met the mischievous glint of emerald cerulean and he rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"Bitlet. What the bleedin' hell are you doin?"
Faith stared at him thoughtfully and crossed her arms. "What am I doing? What. Am. I. Doing?" She tapped one finger against her elbow pensively and her gaze was fixed on a spot on the ceiling. She jumped in glee and her wide eyes caught his. "I know what I was doing. I was saying…"
"Faith…," he warned.
"That. You."
"I'm giving you fair warning…"
"Have. To. Have." She quieted before her face was affixed with a Cheshire cat grin. "Faith!" She exclaimed and her fingers struck, hitting their mark.
There was no possible way Spike could have been prepared for her assault and when her fingers hit just below the fifth ribs, he jumped in shock, his eyes wide. Almost instantly, said shock transformed into uncontrollable laughter as Faith continued her merciless assault.
"Say it." She demanded, her voice holding no hint of amusement though she was having the time of her life.
"Say…what?" Spike choked through his hysterics.
"Say it." She repeated and promptly doubled her efforts.
Spike never liked being powerless. It was how he had felt those first years with Angelus and co. Though he talked the talk, he never had a chance against the elder vampire who had his way with the younger vampire many times, in any way he liked. Then there was the time he had watched the Prague mob almost kill his lover, Dru. Had it not been for his animalistic rage, they would have torn her apart. Only a few years after that, he had to watch from a bloody wheelchair while--who else?--Angelus tortured him in every way but physical as Spike could do nothing but watch (and listen) as Drusilla reveled in the return of her 'Daddy'. Then, of course, there was the Initiative and the sodding chip that they had lodged in his brain, leaving him unable to hunt and defenseless against the likes of wankers like Harris. To put it mildly, Spike loathed the feeling of inadequacy.
But as he writhed in the ground, held down by his daughter, powerless to do anything, he couldn't help but realize that, despite being defenseless against her, he couldn't be happier.
"Are you gonna say it?" Faith questioned and her fingers danced across his ribs with supernatural dexterity.
Spike refused until his sadistic daughter changed positions and concentrated on the sensitive skin at the base of his neck. Spike hissed and put up his hands in surrender.
"Alright already," he pled, "I'll bloody well say it." Faith ceased her ministrations and stared expectantly at him.
"I'm waiting," she said before adding, "and don't try anything funky, or else…" she let the threat hang in the air.
Wiping tears from his eyes, Spike sat up on his elbows before locking his gaze on the slayer. "I. Have. To. Have. Faith." He drawled slowly and Faith smiled at her victory.
"Good," she said and ran her hand through his hair before standing. "Glad we've ironed that little wrinkle out." She turned toward the door, thus missing the evil smirk that crossed the vampire's face but she did not miss the steel grip that fastened along her ankle, causing her to fall.
Using her slayer speed, Faith's arms shot out, bracing her fall but before she could do anything else, two hands cabled around her waist and she was hoisted into the air.
"What are you doing!?" She half-screamed.
"Well," Spike answered casually, "I said I had to have Faith and…lookie here; one Faith, ripe for the tickling coming up…"
"Daddy!" She protested but she could form no other words as her world crashed into a haze of giggles.
***
"So, Bitlet," Spike said, breaking the comfortable silence. Not two minutes ago, he had carried out the remaining portion of his revenge. He glanced over at his daughter and laughed silently at her flushed and disheveled appearance. That'll teach her to mess with the Big Bad…Dad. He mused. They now lay side by side, staring at the ceiling as if the answers to the universe were hidden between the wood beams.
"Yeah, Dad?"
"How'd you get the name Faith?"
"Why do you ask?"
Spike nibbled at his tongue, reflecting on their previous conversation before answering. "Seems to be sort of ironic that faith and hope is what you were giving me earlier."
"I do what I can," she joked before getting serious. "Have you ever heard of another slayer by the name of Faith?"
"Sounds familiar. Didn't she go rogue though? From what I remember, the bleedin' Scoobies asked my help in trackin' her down if I'm not mistaken."
"You're right," Faith informed, "she did go to the other side. They really don't know why, but she had a lot of problems. I mean, she had problems before she was chosen and having that much power--let's just say it didn't help her get better.
"Anyway, she killed a guy and, after some time, turned herself in. She served seven years and by the time she got out, she was like a different person."
"Different good, I assume."
"Yeah. I mean, I didn't know her or anything, but put it this way--Mum hated her but…but by the end, they had become friends."
"Hmmm. The Slayer with a friend outside the Scoobies? Oww," he grunted when Faith punched him in the shoulder.
"Stop. Anyway, like I said, they had become good friends. They fought together for a good ten years before M'shi-Dar."
"Come again, luv."
"M'shi-Dar was like this inter-dimensional hell god, sorta like Glory but a whole helluva lot tougher."
"Balls."
"Uh, yeah. In the portents referencing his arrival, he was known as the 'Eater of Worlds'. Anyway, M'shi-Dar had somehow found a way into our world and his emergence created a temporary hell mouth in LA."
"As if that place needs it," Spike muttered.
"Tell me about it," Faith conceded.
"Considering that you are here, I wager that we defeated the ponce."
"Yeah, but not without casualties."
"Was that when the whelp and demon-girl…" he trailed off, an unfamiliar pang constricting in his gut. He ignored it.
Faith shook her head. "No. That was a few years later. Surprisingly, the Scoobies didn't lose anyone, though Willow and Tara were hospitalized for several months, in comas. They tried to use this spell that M'shi-Dar short-circuited back into them. It's a miracle that they didn't die." She said the last words quietly and Spike knew that even secondhand, the memories were very painful.
"Angel and his gang fought right by your side and Mum said you guys actually got along," she stole a glance over at Spike and noted the dark look that clouded his features. "From what you guys told me, M'shi-Dar's minions were nearly as strong as Glory, though they were definitely more vulnerable to harm than she was. Angel lost two of his people--I think his name was…Garn? No, Gunn. Him and his wife—Fred, I think-- were killed in the fray. After you guys defeated all his minions, Mum said you guys had nothing left and then…"
"Lo and behold, he arises," Spike replied sardonically.
"Of course. Well, I guess M'shi-Dar saw this and took humanoid form to have more fun with you guys," she said dryly. "Seemed to be his undoing. Apparently, the prophecy that foretold of him also said that the greatest weapon against him was his own hubris."
"This blighter's soundin' like Glory more all the time," he observed. "So how did we defeat him? Did he trip over his own pride?" Both cringed at the horrible pun and effectively ignored that it was ever spoken.
"Faith. The prophecy foretold that a warrior of the light, once darkness cloaked shall bind herself to M'shi-Dar, sealing her fate of eternal torment for the souls of the world." Faith didn't notice the tears that fell unbidden down her cheek at the retelling of Faith's sacrifice.
Spike sat up and stared at his daughter in horror. "You mean…" but he couldn't finish, for the truth of the matter was in Faith's eyes. The other Faith had given herself for the sake of him and Buffy, Angel and the Scoobies, the world. And what was her reward? Eternal torment. Though he never met the girl of whom they spoke of, a wave of grief and anger surged within him and he rammed his injured hand into the mats.
"Bloody, soddin' Powers!" He roared. "The chit gives herself up for us and what does she get? A nice, ripe buggering from those poncey gits." The anger threatened to consume him and Spike wanted nothing more than to rip something to shreds. Then he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and one look at his daughter and his rage was abated.
"I know," she agreed. Faith could not understand why the other slayer had to suffer but it had been ordained by the powers. When she had been told that story, Faith had vowed never to trust in the Powers or their prophecies. That was the driving reason she refused to believe her mother when Buffy begged Faith to kill her. How could she put trust in the whims of beings that cared for nothing but 'balance and order'?
"Well, I don't know too much on the particulars but, needless to say, M'shi-Dar was banished along with Faith and everything was safe. That was about six years before I was born. Mum said that she wanted Faith to be remembered, not for what she was at first, but for what she had become and my birth signified that. Like my birth, Faith's rebirth was unexpected and miraculous in its own right. I guess it was only fitting to name the miracle child of a slayer and vampire after someone like that."
"Yeah," Spike replied gravely, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He was beyond words and chose to remain quiet, contemplating his disorderly thoughts.
Faith was exhausted. The emotional toil over the last twenty hours coupled with the tale of the other slayer's sacrifice grated her nerves and she just wanted to lie there for a minute.
"So," Spike said, finally breaking the downtrodden emotion of the room, "I'd wager that I was the one that suggested 'Joyce', huh?"
The icy smoothness of her father's voice, the way he slipped back into that cocky banter despite the emotional despair of the last few minutes was something that both Faith and her mother greatly enjoyed. He had the knack of shaking them from their worst of moods. Faith had always been grateful for her dad's abilities to do such, none more so than now.
"Yep, although Mum was kinda worried that you were gonna want to name me 'marshmallow'."
"Why would the silly bint think that?" he questioned, his offense clear.
"Well, because, for ten years, all you talked about when Joyce was mentioned were those--and I quote--'little bitty marshmallows'." Spike glared at Faith who only looked at him innocently. It wasn't long before he rose in a huff, his back to her so she wouldn't see the smile on his face.
"Aw, c'mon, Daddy," Faith mewled, wrapping her arms around Spike's waist from the side. "You know I was just foolin' about."
Spike shot a scowl at her but it quickly broke into a toothy grin and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked towards the door.
"Well, hey, she knew how to make 'em just right," he defended.
"Sure, sure," Faith teased as they neared the door. She grabbed Spike's wrist before he turned the handle.
"Bit?" he questioned, reading her purposeful gaze.
"I meant what I said earlier, Daddy. About hope." He looked away but she held his face delicately in her hands. "Look at me." Reluctantly, he complied and wanted to hide at the raw emotion that stared back at him. No one had ever given him such an open look of love before, except maybe Dawn, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.
"The only way things will go your way is if you have faith that they will. I know about the speech you gave Mum, about the death wish of a slayer, and it is so true. You keep wishing for something, sooner or later, it's gonna happen. That's especially true for bad things. I'm not naïve, thinking that things will always turn out rosy, but I do know this: I will not lose faith again. Never." He was taken aback by her adamancy.
Faith saw her father's uncertainty and she forced her hard lines to relax. "Daddy, I love you so much and I know that things aren't where you want them to be right now. But trust me when I say this: after all this is over, there will be things that you will find out that will make you wanna die of happiness." She hugged him and he inhaled her scent--so much like Buffy--before whispering in her ear.
"If I died right this moment, I couldn't be happier," and he allowed the joyous tears fall as Faith sobbed happily into his chest.
The stood still, lost in the embrace, for a few more minutes until the distant jingle of the Magic Box bell jarred them from it. They pulled apart, wiping the tears from the other's face and smiled tiredly at one another.
No more words were needed as they went to greet the others. Spike had never felt better than he did right now. Faith may not have been his biological daughter, but she was a part of him nonetheless, just like Dawn. Just like Buffy. They were his girls through and through and he'd be ash before he let anything happen to them.
No, that was not true. Even death, the true death, could not keep him from his three girls.
He had once thought that his heart could only belong to one woman at a time but now he knew better. His love was evenly divided into thirds and, contrary to belief, his heart was not torn between them. It surged with depths of love he couldn't conceive; and he wouldn't try.
Love like he felt for Buffy, Dawn and Faith required no words. Hell, it required no thoughts.
The love that he felt just was. And in that way, it was like the universe--infinite and forever expanding, consuming the nothingness that preceded it.
And Spike welcomed it with open arms.
***Hey, I hoped you guys liked it. I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Some of the references I made may make interesting one shot stories. But I won't even try that until I'm done with this.
***The next chapter, Always Got Your Back will detail the Scoobies strategy along with a moment for everyone's favorite couple.