Umm…sorry????  Yeah, I kinda abandoned this fic for a while…I dunno why.  Anyhow, please read and forgive all.  You'll prolly need to review a couple chapters…ahem.  Oh, and please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes.  I didn't edit very carefully cause I wanted to get this out quickly, after I finished writing it.

Who are you and who am I
To say we know the reason why?
Some are born; some men die
Beneath one infinite sky.
There'll be war, there'll be peace.
But everything one day will cease.
All the iron turned to rust;
All the proud men turned to dust.
And so all things, time will mend.
So this song will end.

Faye remained perfectly silent, her face hidden in Vicious' shirt.  Spike lowered his gun slowly and took a step forward.

            "Come on," Spike said softly, "we both know you're not going to kill her."  Vicious regarded him coldly.

            "Oh?"  His finger tightened over the trigger.

Click.

Nothing happened.  Spike forced his gun hand to relax.  Vicious opened the chamber of the gun he held.  "Three bullets missing…you never replaced that bullet you lodged in my look-alike's head?"  Faye didn't respond.  Her breathing had altered, grown shallower, but other than that she hadn't made a sound for several minutes.  "It's very strange…" Vicious murmured, snapping the chamber back into place.  "The gun holds six bullets all together.  I myself only shot two…how could it end up back – "

            "The chamber spun when you struck me."  Faye's voice was muffled, but both Vicious and Spike heard her clearly.

            "Ah," Vicious said.  Spike noticed how his hands shook, and had been shaking ever since he pulled the trigger of Faye's gun.  "Then I suppose there was a fifty-fifty chance…but it seems very strange that it would land on that particular spot – "

            "Vicious."  Spike reached into his pants pocket and pulled out three bullets.  He tossed them over to Vicious, who caught them deftly with his left hand while still keeping his arm around Faye.  "I'm ready to end it, aren't you?"  Spike moved into the center of room calmly.  Vicious studied his rival intensely, then released Faye, pushing her to the side.  Faye raised her head, glancing at him and Spike fearfully.

            "How gallant of you," Vicious said, lifting his hand to indicate the bullets Spike had thrown to him.  He jerked open the barrel of Faye's gun.  "But as you know, I prefer to use my blade."  He emptied the gun of the remaining three bullets and tossed all six down the hallway behind him.  He held the gun out to Faye, who was staring straight ahead to Spike.

            "Why are you doing this?" Faye whispered.  Spike kept his gaze fixed on Vicious, his jaw clenched tightly.

            "This is how it was supposed to happen, Faye," he responded, his voice a dull monotone.

            "I don't believe that!" she screamed, taking a step towards him.  Vicious snarled and yanked her back roughly, slamming her into the wall.  She groaned as her head banged against steel, and she slid to the floor in a graceful heap.  Vicious knelt next to her, drawing out his sword.

            "You had your chance to kill me, darling," he whispered hoarsely, his breath stirring her hair.  "But instead you murdered poor Mr. Matsumoto."  Faye released a strangled sob as she jerked her head up.

            "Witney…"

            "Did he try to stop you?  Did he try to explain, Faye?  Or didn't you give him the chance before you blew his fucking brains out?"

*

"You won't go through with it."

"You think not?"

*

            "You're lying!" Faye pleaded, as the memory of that gunshot rang in her ears.

            "I found him rotting in some jail cell on Mars," Vicious commented, brushing the flat side of his blade under the tips of her hair and over her exposed throat.  "He agreed to do a little job for me after I bought his freedom.  He had undergone plastic surgery before, and when I told him you were involved…"

*

"You won't go through with it."

*

            Faye shuddered uncontrollably and felt her body sag forward against Vicious' sword, the blade etching a line of red on her pale throat.

            "Careful, Faye," Vicious whispered, a sadistic smile twisting his face.

            "Vicious!" Spike growled.  "Stop fucking stalling…or are you afraid to face an eternity in Hell?"  Vicious rose to his feet and stalked to the center of the room, the tip of his blade scraping against the floor.

            "I feel the flames licking at my feet every day," he responded, a manic gleam in his bloodshot eyes.  "But I can't deny the hunger that's been growing inside me – to watch the life fade from your eyes when I pierce through your flesh with my sword."  Spike grinned suddenly.

            "Well I hate to disappoint you," he drawled, lifting his hand and tapping a finger next to his left eye, "but I only got one with any life left in it." 

Vicious snarled and darted forward, thrusting his sword at Spike.  Spike twisted sideways and danced away, cocking his gun as Vicious' blade sliced through one of the couch cushions and sent a cloud of white feathers bursting into the air.  He knelt and shot twice, the first one grazing his opponent's shoulder and the second sparking as it ricocheted off Vicious' raised sword.  Spike vaulted over the table and Vicious followed, his blade ripping through Spike's shirt and leaving a long, diagonal cut across his back.  Spike rolled to the side as Vicious leapt over him, the syndicate leader's momentum causing him to slide on the metal floor.  Spike flipped onto his stomach and released a shot into Vicious' foot while the swordsman tried to regain his balance.  Vicious grunted and fell to one knee, his blade still poised and ready.  The two men regarded each other warily, their pants filling the silent room.  Faye lifted her head as the fighting ceased, one hand pressed against her throat.

"Are you ready to finish it, Spike?" Vicious asked as he climbed to his feet.  Spike followed suit, his gun gripped loosely in his hand.

"I've always been ready," he responded quietly.  He turned his head and stared directly into Faye's wide, disbelieving eyes.  "Since the moment Julia died."  Faye felt her world constrict and a torrent of voices from the past poured into her head:

*

"You won't go through with it."

"I like being around you, Faye.  Do you feel the same way?"

"I don't remember…"

"This is why I have to run…girls are quite dangerous when they're being proposed to."

"Not always sad, like Faye-Faye."

"Everyone changes.  Don't try to be someone you're not."

"Forgive me?"

"I need you now."

"Yes."

"I'm going to wait right here, Faye!  I won't leave until you're back in my arms, telling me you love me!"

"I don't want anything more to do with you, I hate you!"

"Forget him, Faye.  We both need to.  Vicious is dead, he's past."

*

            Faye stumbled to her feet, the room spinning oddly.  Spike and Vicious seemed frozen in time, their breathing slow and silent.  Faye kept her eyes on Spike; the blood caked on the torn edges of his shirt, the droplet of sweat stroking down his cheek, his lips tightened in a grimace, his eyes…  Faye reached the couch, and then the table.  Neither man turned, neither one noticed her presence at all.  She was close enough to feel the heat radiating from their bleeding bodies.  Spike's eyes…

*

"I need you now."

*

"Yes," Faye breathed.

Spike's muscles tightened as he prepared to throw himself forward.  Faye moved with him, situating herself between the two flashing, metal weapons.  The gunshot and the blade coincided in a simple symphony.  The bullet grazed her side and buried itself in Vicious' abdomen.  The sword pierced through her left shoulder, parting flesh and muscle and vein.  Faye watched in distracted fascination as Vicious released a wordless, strangled sound and his eyes widened.

"Tell me the reason," he whispered, "why did you love him best?"  The moment before they went dead, Faye thought she saw a swirl of blue darken his pale orbs.  Vicious dropped to his side, pulling his blade with him.  Faye felt steadying hands grasp her from behind and slow her decent to the floor. 

            "You fucking idiot, you stupid fucking idiot!"  Faye tore her eyes away from Vicious' still form and focused on the shaking hands pressed against her breast.  Up the slim, muscled arm, over the hunched and bleeding shoulder, across the sharp cheekbone.  His mismatched eyes refused to meet her gaze.  Faye shifted and placed her right hand over Spike's.  He looked.

            "Take me with you," she gasped out, dizzy with the effort of talking.  "Don't leave me."

            "You're the one who's leaving, Faye."  Faye felt something hot on her cheeks, and she thought Spike might be crying for her.  But they were her own tears.

            "I wish…" Faye closed her eyes.  "I wish I had met you seventy years ago."  Spike shook his head slowly.

            "No." 

And he did cry then, although she didn't see him.    

There WILL be an epilogue…do not fret.

Lyrics are the second half of Pink Floyd's "Childhood's End" (First half in previous chapter).

PLEASE review!!  It will really help me figure out what to do for the epilogue…and yes, this is my pathetic attempt to weasel reviews out of you people.