Chapter Three

Spike wandered around West Haven for a while before deciding to go back inside the Sunnydale building and ask for directions to Kia's home. He thought it was highly amusing that the tourist information offices for West Haven were housed in a building emblazoned with the name of a town that no longer existed. He stepped inside for the second time that day and headed over to the information counter, placing Kia's note on the desk. The elderly women eyed Spike's bare chest with disdain before looking down at the written note.

"I'm looking for this address; I've never been here before," he explained, ignoring her look of distaste.

"Clover Street is two blocks over to the right. The house numbers are quite clear from the sidewalk," she said briskly. "Thank you for stopping by, sir," She turned away from him, busying herself with pretending to file paperwork. Spike grabbed the note and left the building, secretly pleased with himself, he still had the knack for offending people.

Turning right, he began to walk, feeling a little better knowing that he was almost ready to get underway. He turned up Clover Street and began looking for number 29, the odd numbers were on the left hand side of the road but every house looked the same. The gardens were overgrown, the paintwork was chipped, it was clear that Clover Street had been part of the old town. He walked up to the front door of number 29, its green paint peeling around the wooden numbers, it looked deserted but he knocked anyway. It only took a few moments for the door to creak open, the man who opened it looked half asleep; his eyes were bleary and his hair wild and unruly about his head, he hadn't shaved in days and the sunlight made him screw his eyes up.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice low and gravely as if he needed to cough.

"Kia sent me to ask you about the bike, she said you'd sell it for fifty and give me a shirt," said Spike, the man laughed and moved aside, ushering Spike inside. He followed him through the house into the back yard, an old rusting motorbike sat on the overgrown grass. Spike walked over and inspected it, running his finger along the metal and smiling softly at the memory of riding. With a few tools, he could probably fix it up a little; he had learned a lot about motorcycle maintenance throughout his past, bikes had been his only means of travel at one point. The man mumbled something and disappeared inside the house leaving Spike to crack open the engine cover and take a look inside. It looked workable but it would definitely need a bit of time spent on it; Kia's boyfriend wandered back into the garden carrying a plain black shirt. He threw it at Spike who pulled it on gratefully; walking around with no top on at garnered him a lot of attention in the town.

"So," he yawned. "Kia told you 'bout the bike, huh? She's falling apart a bit but she'd probably get you a fair way outta here,"

"Do you have any tools or anything? Just so I could fiddle with it a bit?" asked Spike, the man nodded and pointed to the open shed. Spike wandered inside and found a toolbox sitting on a bench surrounded by broken electrical equipment.

"My name's Jake by the way," he yawned again, Spike introduced himself and proceeded to attack the engine with a spanner. "You look worse off than us, dude. You sure you can afford her?"

"I got fifty bucks," said Spike, wiping oil off on his trousers. "But that's all I got,"

"Aw man, that sucks," said Jake. "Maybe… maybe I could just give her to you. I mean, I was gonna scrap her anyway so…" Spike frowned at him; he was wandering around the garden now. He turned the ignition and checked the fuel gauge; the tank was still three quarters full, if he didn't have to pay for the bike then he might be able to get to Ohio on fifty dollars. "Kia would probably kill me but you seem like a good man, you probably need it for something important, right?"

"Er… yeah," said Spike, he had come to conclusion that Jake was stoned. There was no way anyone would just give away their motorbike otherwise, no matter how badly in need of work it was. "I need to get to Ohio; I have to meet someone,"

"I knew it, man. I knew you had somewhere to be," laughed Jake, picking up a helmet from the grass and handing it to Spike. "So, Spike, that's a weird name. Is it British or something?"

"Yeah, something like that," he said, continuing to meddle with the engine before replacing the cover and putting the tools back in Jake's box. He climbed on and turned the keys again, revving the engine slightly. She sounded good; a little old but definitely not on her last legs. "Are you sure about this, Jake? I could give you the money,"

"The money's not important, man. It's all about helping your fellow man in need," grinned Jake. "Hey, you like the shirt?"

"Yeah, it's great. Thank you, and tell Kia I said thanks as well," said Spike. "Look, I'm gonna feel bad so would you take five dollars? Anything?"

"Okay, but only five," Spike handed him a five dollar note which he stuffed into his pocket. He walked across the yard and opened the back gates that led out onto the road. "Later Spike,"

Spike shouted out a goodbye as he sped through the gate and down Clover Street, down the high street and out onto the open road. He had forgotten how much he loved riding; the feeling of the wind against his body, the open landscape, the freedom of not being confined to a car. He considered buying a map but he had spent enough time travelling across America to know the way; he was surprised at his memory of the roads. He felt guilty about not paying Jake, he felt as if he had used him and Kia but there was just no way of persuading him although admittedly, he hadn't tried very hard. Besides; it was a seven state journey up ahead and he knew needed the money to get across the country and get to Ohio.

It had been over a fortnight since Kennedy and Faith had shared their Slayer intuition kicking into gear but nothing had happened since; the numbers of vampires and demons had remained constant, there had been no swell of evil. Willow had called Giles shortly afterward to inform him of both Buffy's departure and the Slayers' feelings; he confirmed that a number of the other Slayers had felt odd that morning but he knew no more than they did. Faith had pushed it aside and forgotten about it, she had figured that if it was a big bad then it would have come for them by now but Kennedy was still feeling slightly anxious about it, it had been her first Slayer sense. She had always put up a wall of strength but this had knocked it down, she was off-kilter and it was beginning to affect her fight. Everyone had been worried about her but there was nothing anyone could say, she just kept pushing everyone further away. Willow was worried about her but all they could do was wait and see what the feeling was and if anything was to come out of it.

"Any luck with the coven?" asked Faith as Willow put the telephone down and collapsed onto the sofa. Faith joined her, looking across at her intently waiting for an answer.

"Still nothing," she sighed. "They say they felt the changeover but all they know is it wasn't an earthbound act, it was something more mystical. Even Eleria is clueless and she's like an uber-seer,"

"Well, that's good in a way. If it wasn't an earth thing then it's not the Hellmouth, right?"

"Yeah, I just wish Kennedy would realise that her Slayerness is normal, she's still freaked out. She said it was like someone invading her mind or something. I guess it is her first Slayer sense intuition thingie,"

"It does feel like an invasion but it's just… it's not that bad, she needs to get over it," snapped Faith, brushing her unruly hair back from her face with one hand. "I've never really had it like that before, B was the dream queen round here,"

"Yeah, she did enjoy her premonitions," laughed Willow, thinking back to how often she would have to wake Buffy to stop her screaming. "I guess it's just different from Slayer to Slayer. Anyway, where'd Robin run off to?"

"Shopping," sighed Faith, looking at her fingernails. "We're out of milk and Xander ate the last of the Pop Tarts this morning, I think he's addicted,"

"Everything okay with you two?" asked Willow, Faith leaned back into the sofa, shrugged and sighed softly. She didn't want to think about her love life when they could be discussing work and slaying but she knew Willow wouldn't give it up if she didn't get an answer.

"Fine, really but he's so into the teaching thing and I'm like, so not the school type. It's just getting a bit boring but I don't want it to 'cause that's what always happens. A year's a long time for a girl like me to stay put,"

"But you two are so good together,"

"We were but I just think all that passion and stuff's burnt out. It's like super sexy slayer boy's gone and he's back to being principal guy; it's totally dull. I still got it but he's all about the papers and the books and shit. I'm just bored, I feel like going out and getting a good ol' fashioned screwing,"

"But you wouldn't do that to Robin, right?" said Willow worriedly, Faith shook her head but her mind was elsewhere, giving an entirely different answer. Willow understood Faith's itchy feet when it came to being tied down, Faith had always preferred the night long relationships as opposed to normality and monogamy; it just worked better for her. It suited her personality more than being someone's girlfriend and it was clear to Willow that this past year staying faithful to Robin had been taking their toll on her; she was fighting harder as if she was getting pleasure from it, she was also more argumentative with Robin and always flirting with Xander in front of him as if she was trying to make him jealous, re-ignite the spark between them but it hadn't worked. The knock at the door made them both jump but it was Willow who stood up to answer it; Faith leaned back and moved the curtains aside but she couldn't see to the doorway.

"If that's Robin, slap him for forgetting his keys again," she shouted after Willow, she grinned and nodded before walking into the huge hallway and up to the front door. She unclipped the lock and heaved it open, half expecting to find Robin standing there with his shopping bags and a sheepish, apologetic look on his face but it wasn't what she got.

"Spike?" she said, half choking on the word as the shock of seeing him slapped her in the face. His hair was different, somehow softer and darker and he looked exhausted and gaunt but it was definitely him. She stood looking up at him, soaking up the image of him standing in her doorway, there was just no way that he could be real, no way for him to be there. He looked tired, he looked painfully thin and he looked tanned. It was then that she realised he was actually standing in the sunlight and he wasn't bursting into flames.

"Hey Red,"