Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.

Summary: Post AtS and BtVS, Faith and Xander are approached by a secret government agency. Surprises all around.

Rating: PG-13

Chapter 18: Want and need

Xander woke up with a start, blinking his gummy eyelids. For a moment the burning in his left eye didn't make sense, till he remembered that it was gone. He shifted position, glancing around the dark room.

He could see Spike lying on the floor beside him, a few feet away. The ex-vampire's chest was rising and falling rhythmically, and Xander just watched him blankly for a moment.

Then Xander's gaze moved over to the beds.

Faith was nearer him, lying on her side facing him. A sheet covered her completely, but he could see her face peeking out from under a corner of the sheet. For a long moment he stared at her.

Asleep her face was peaceful, much more peaceful than when she was awake. All the careful defenses she'd built up were down, and the makeup she wore like an armor was gone. In sleep she looked younger, happier.

Watching her sleep he could almost forget the times she'd tried to kill him.

There was a flash of light behind her, and he looked up in surprise into the yellow eyes that had suddenly flashed in the darkness behind Faith.

Xander felt his breath catch in his throat, surprised by the sudden appearance. He managed not to yell, slapping a hand over his mouth to hold back the girlish scream he could feel tickling the back of his throat.

Slowly the golden eyes faded back to black eyes, and Drusilla smiled at him. "The Slayer's white knight," she whispered.

Faith's muscles tensed, and her head rose up out of the sheets. Xander's eye lingered on the long curve of her neck for a moment, the stretch of white skin entrancing him. Faith rolled, facing the vampire, who looked down at her with a giggle.

"We don't sleep at night," she informed the Slayer. "It's not our way, either of us. We live at night, in the darkness, in the shadows. The stars burn brightly then, and not at all in the daylight."

"You're right," grumbled Faith.

Xander sank back down on the couch, deciding to feign sleep.

"We sleep at night," grumbled Spike, sitting up. The blanket he was under slid down, revealing that he was wearing a black tee. Xander was surprised by the clothes, knowing from the time they'd spent as roommates that the ex-vampire preferred sleeping in the nude.

Faith glanced back at him. "Yeah, the humans," she agreed. "The normal ones, anyway." She hesitated, the word normal poison on her tongue. "Aren't you some kind of super-powered demon hunter, kinda like me? Shouldn't you sleep during the day and fight at night?"

Spike groaned, standing up. He was wearing sweat pants, noted Xander, glancing back at Faith. She was looking at him, and for a moment their eyes locked. Both looked away at the same moment, uncomfortable with whatever was between them.

Spike staggered to the mini-fridge, grumbling. "I don't know what I am," he muttered.

"Have you tried sleeping during the day?" asked Faith, sitting up, irritated. The sheet slipped lower on her, and Xander's eyes followed the sheet down before he caught himself, closing his eye.

Then he heard someone stand and begin walking towards him. He mentally prepared himself for the possibility that it was Faith. 'Look at her eyes, look at her eyes,' he begged himself before opening his eye.

He wasn't sure whether it was a relief or not to see Drusilla standing over him, wearing a frilly floor-length nightgown that might have looked at home in the 18th century.

Drusilla sat down on the coffee table beside Xander.

"Dru!" said Spike from the far side of the room, a warning in his voice. "Play nice!"

Xander swallowed, moving backwards and sitting up to increase the distance between them. He was surprised everyone was getting up and moving, and supposed Faith and Drusilla must be feeling restless.

He couldn't understand why Spike would be feeling restless too, unless Faith was right that the ex-vampire was also naturally nocturnal.

Or maybe he just missed being nocturnal.

"I see a crossroads coming for you," whispered Drusilla. "A change that you cannot approve, blood and ashes driving you to the thing you hate."

Xander swallowed. "What?" he said plaintively.

Spike returned, a bottle of beer held loosely in his left hand. "You've got a choice coming up, between something you don't want and something you can't let happen," he said shortly.

"What? Are you sure?" asked Xander, still staring at the vampire.

Spike put a hand on Drusilla's shoulder. "You should go back to bed," he said gently.

She shook her head. "Steel and water, steel and water," she murmured. "All bathed in delicious pain and screams."

"That doesn't sound good for you," said Spike dryly, looking at Xander. "She does this all the time. I've had a good long time to learn how to interpret what she says--it's not hard, once you see the pattern."

"Pattern?" asked Xander nervously.

Spike shrugged. "It took me nearly fifty years to see that pattern," he warned Xander, shrugging. He glanced back at Faith, who'd put on some clothes and was heading for the door. "Going somewhere?" he asked her.

"I gotta go kill something," she muttered.

Spike smiled, and began to turn towards her, his mouth opening. He stopped in mid motion, looking back at Drusilla and Xander, his mouth twisting in a frown. Xander knew exactly what was going through his head, the desire to leave and hunt, warring with the responsibility to keep Drusilla away from Xander. While Spike stood there indecisively, Faith unlocked the door and slipped outside, slamming the door behind her.

"Bollocks," muttered Spike.

--

Angel woke up when the lights came on, and sat up quickly, his hands rising to shield his eyes. His entire body was tense, expecting his skin to start burning.

It didn't. He blinked, focusing on the lights above him. He looked around, searching for a light switch.

"They're on a timer," said the girl in the opposite cell helpfully. "Six-thirty sharp."

"Ah," he said, feeling foolish. "Uh, good morning," he offered, not sure exactly how sane she was. She'd sounded coherent so far, but he'd seen crazy people act sane before.

Just look at Spike for proof of that.

She frowned at him, sliding up off the bed. She was wearing drab gray sweatpants and a white tee, and was watching him just a little too closely, in an almost predatory manner. He cleared his throat, approaching the bars and leaning against them, intentionally adopting an easy manner. "I'm Angel," he said, trying to keep his voice non-threatening.

She watched him lean against the wall with eyes that didn't seem to blink often enough. "Dana," she said shortly.

He nodded, trying out an encouraging smile. She didn't react, and he let it slip off his face. That she was behind bars said volumes for her mental health, and her bursts of coherency seemed short-lived. "How've you been doing?" he asked, opting for the direct approach.

She shrugged. "Drugged. Bored. A little angry," she said, each word carefully emphasized.

Angel nodded, glancing back at the bookshelf behind her. There was something both melancholy and predatory about her, something that he wasn't at all sure he ought to understand as well as he did.

She was a Slayer, and that instinct was stronger than her sanity right now. Soul or no soul, he would have to be careful. He knew better than most just how dangerous a person in a cage could be.

He shuddered at the thought of Angelus, and how without one part of him to restrain himself he could do the things he'd done.

"Scared?" asked Dana.

"Maybe," said Angel, feeling an itching in his fingers. The itch seemed to cry out for blood, and his stomach growled to remind him just how hungry he was. "Scared of myself, mostly."

"Because you're a vampire," said Dana, a note of sarcasm in her voice. Or maybe it was just sorrow, and he'd been around Spike too long.

"I wasn't always a good vampire," said Angel. "It's not…there are a lot of reasons I fear myself."

Dana watched him, a scowl on her face.

--

There was no allure left in Drusilla for Spike, no charged looks, no heated exchanges. It surprised him that there wasn't more tension, more longing.

After all the time he'd spent in love with her, he'd expected that this time spent with her would be painful. But it wasn't. All the lovable things that she did were still cute, and all her babbling still made perfect sense to him, and him alone.

But there was no pain, no searing agony from being so close and not possessing her. Certainly nothing like he'd gotten from Buffy when they'd spent time together so long ago, before he'd died, again.

Xander was snoring, an annoying wheezing that aggravated Spike. Drusilla was just watching TV now, flipping from channel to channel as the stars commanded.

Spike lay back on the floor, winding one arm beneath his head as a pillow and trying to make sense of his life.

His plan was insane. He knew that. He was crazy, not stupid.

But it was all he had, right now, the only shreds of sanity he clung to. He was going to do right by his girl, going to do something to save her, to keep her safe from everything that would try to destroy her.

Even if he didn't love her any more.

He would have gnashed his teeth, if he was certain exactly what that was.

He settled for grinding them, which startled Xander awake. Spike glanced at the boy, who gazed around the darkened apartment, finally settling his gaze on the television. "Ugh," groaned Xander.

Spike stood up, disgusted with his surroundings and tired of the company. "Here," he said, pulling a small cross off the dresser where he'd left it. "Your defense against Dru," he said off Xander's blank look.

Spike paused to find a pair of black jeans, and even stepped into the bathroom to put them on, in deference to Xander. That he was showing deference to Xander at all gave him a sickening twinge of regret.

When he'd stayed with Xander he'd gone out of his way to make the boy uncomfortable. Even now he could feel the urge to taunt and torment the younger man welling up deep inside him. He pushed it back, rushing out the door.

He didn't need any advanced sense of smell to find Faith. She was sitting on a park bench across the road. Spike sighed, heading out.

"I take it I won't be finding any vampires to kill," he said shortly.

"No, none," she said bleakly, looking away from him.

"So you went looking, but didn't find anything, and then couldn't face the whelp?" asked Spike irritably.

She shrugged, still not looking at him.

"Great," he muttered, sitting down beside her. "You know, cowardice is supposed to be my big thing."

Faith shrugged again. When Spike's hand landed on her shoulder she tensed up, surprised by the contact.

"You need to talk to him," muttered Spike. "Love can get messy if you don't handle it right."

"Love?" said Faith, laughing, finally turning and meeting his eyes. "Who said anything about love? I didn't. I don't know love. I don't understand love. How could I? I don't even believe in love."

Spike snorted. "You don't believe in love? I live my life by it." He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, standing up.

"It's just lust, just an animal need, nothing more," sneered Faith. "I want Xander. I need Xander. I don't love him! It's just tension between Xander and I, that's all. I just need a good lay to get him out of my system."

"Doesn't work," advised Spike. "I got Buffy, didn't I? And I just ended up further away from her, when all was said and done." He marched away from her, back towards the motel room.

--

Connor hated sitting through his math class. Math was the most boring subject in the world, he decided.

At least in his other classes he could see some sort of usefulness to it. His Latin class had already helped him track down some nasty Polgara demons, and his Lit class had introduced him to some books that kicked butt when it came to identifying demons.

But math class didn't help at all.

As the teacher dismissed the class he headed for the door, hoping to catch Rachel before lunch.

He saw the strawberry blonde waiting for him, leaning against his locker, and felt his heart lurch. The look on her heart-shaped face was too serious, too somber, and he knew she wouldn't have good words for him.

"Hi, Rachel," said Connor cautiously, moving closer.

"Nice to see you," she said sarcastically. "Where've you been for the last month?"

"Uh, I had a family emergency," he said.

"Yeah, some emergency!" she snapped. "Your mom called!"

Connor felt his heart lurch again. "She called? What did you tell her?"

"The truth, that I haven't seen you in forever!" said Rachel scathingly. "You just lied to me, you jerk! Where were you really?"

Connor frowned. "Now I have to call mom. Great," he muttered.

Rachel pushed herself away from the wall, glaring right at him. "Don't give me that!" she snapped. "You're lying to me, you never let me know where you are, what you're doing… I've had just about enough of you."

She turned to walk away, and Connor felt his stomach give another lurch, this time one that felt like it fell right out of his body.

He just watched her go, unable to think of anything to say to make it better. "Yeah, good work on the secret identity front," he muttered under his breath, taking his cell phone out of his pocket and taking a deep breath.

--

Giles was surprised by the knock on the door, and as he slowly opened it, blinking at the bright sunlight outside, he wondered if he could possibly have been mistaken about the voices he'd thought he heard.

Buffy and Dawn were standing on the front porch, both of them casually smiling at him in a perfectly innocent way.

Giles wasn't stupid. He gave Dawn a hard look. "That was hardly mature, Dawn," he informed her. He stepped back, giving them room to enter. "Angel is upstairs," he told Buffy.

"Where's Spike?" she retorted.

Giles felt a half smile forming on his face, a very smug one. She'd asked the question, giving him the perfect opening to say exactly what he wanted to about Spike. It was a moment to be savored. "He ran away with Drusilla," he said slowly.

Both girls were stunned by the words. They exchanged a glance, then Dawn figured it out. "You wanted to bring her here, and he took her away!" she said.

"Indeed," said Giles, smiling. "He said he'd find her a soul somewhere…would you like to see Angel?"

Buffy took a deep breath. "I guess I have to," she muttered.