A huge thanks to wicked-obsession (formerly known as lil badass ;) ), Caren H, mythic-lionheart, Ferro, allie (Have you been looking over my notes?), Whispers, Hugo and fai (Thank you. I love long reviews and yours made my day!). Extra cookies for all of you!

I've had a little crisis mid-plot, which basically means I've changed what happens over the next five chapters. Thus I have to re-write a lot of parts and spruce it all up, so updates may be a little slow in coming. Hopefully you'll get one every fortnight, but if not then I'll make it up to you with a double post. And that wasn't a bribe. Onto the story…

Creed

Chapter 13

The gang was silent as they walked slowly back to the Summers' house.Xander squeezed Buffy's shoulder and then pulled her to his chest in a firm embrace. They stayed like that for a moment, until Xander stepped back and tried to catch her eye. Buffy didn't meet his gaze though, and he nodded, stepped back and left with Anya in tow. Willow and Tara headed upstairs after assuring themselves that Buffy would be okay for the night.

Buffy ignored their sympathetic looks and well-wishing words. She knew they all wanted to apologise and say they were sorry… but for what? They didn't know how she felt. They didn't understand. So they kept quiet and shot small, anxious glances at her.

Buffy mounted the stairs and locked herself in her room. She looked at the empty, unmade bed on the floor, and perched on the edge of her own bed. That was when she noticed that Faith's overnight bag was missing. Striding to her closet, Buffy wrenched the doors open and saw that Faith's clothes were gone too. Buffy hurried to the bathroom, and the brunette's toothbrush and toiletries weren't there. Everything she had bought for Faith after their return from L.A was gone.

Faith had gone.

The next week dragged slowly. She worked at the Bronze for five hours before lunch, then came home for a few hours before heading back again for the night shift. Giles had made her promise to never leave the building unless Xander or himself was there to walk her home after the night shift, and she hated how helpless and vulnerable it made her feel. Willow and Tara went to classes early and came home just as she was leaving for her night shift, so they didn't get to spend much time together. Buffy didn't like the way they were growing apart, but Willow had Tara now, and with her ever-budding magic she didn't need to rely on Buffy as she used to.

Xander and Anya had announced their engagement and a small party followed. Buffy tried to be excited for them, but her congratulations were flat and her smiles were empty. She kept waiting for Anya to yell out Faith's name and follow it with, "You got him first, but I get him forever!" She waited for Willow to complain about Faith being in the kitchen, and she half expected Giles to scold Faith for turning the music up too loud. Dawn looked happy though, and it was only the smile on her younger sister's face that prevented her from fleeing the imposing walls of her home.

She went to work and got paid, but she never seemed to see any signs of where it went after she handed it to Giles. There was nothing different about the house- except for the food in the cupboards- and none of the things that needed fixing were fixed. Giles brushed aside her worries, ensuring her that the bills were slowly being paid off and that social security was content for now. Any doubts about working such long hours were dismissed as soon as she thought of living without Dawn. There were many ways to punish her, but Buffy didn't think any would be as painful as losing her beloved sister.

Xander had become her rock; he was there telling jokes when she needed a good laugh; he was there to baby-sit Dawn when she needed some time away from the house; he was there when she couldn't open the jar of salsa. He visited her at work during the lunch hour and helped her get through the long hours. She always glanced at the door at exactly seven past one and found him strolling through the door, and she would place a beer on the counter before he even got to his seat. Buffy didn't think she would have gotten through the week if Xander hadn't been there. Without Faith, there was no one else who could comfort her.

When the week rolled to an end and Buffy had had a difficult day at the Bronze, she arrived home to an empty house. She wearily trudged up to her bedroom and found that her pot plant had died. Sighing, she threw it out and left the empty vase on her bedside table. She grabbed her pillow and hugged it tightly to her chest, searching the room with her eyes for Mr Gordo. He was nowhere to be found and she sat up, frowning. That was when she saw him, tucked beneath the edge of Faith's blanket. She hadn't bothered to clean up Faith's bed before now, hoping that she would return. But Faith hadn't. Buffy picked it up and stared at it, releasing the pillow and clutching the stuffed pig instead. Without knowing it, Buffy was sitting in the exact same position Faith had after their arrival.

Mr Gordo gave off the same zesty, citrus scent that Faith wore.

Buffy stood up and walked out of the house. She walked for what seemed like hours, and didn't care where she went or how she got there. She was only aware of Faith's words flashing through her mind. I was always gonna be better then you… I am better than you… Does it burn?

Buffy remembered their first meeting in the jail. She recalled their night in the bathroom in the dingy motel. She thought of their night of dancing- and drinking- at the club. She remembered the feeling of contentment at the Hyperion; chatting to Cordelia about the latest case or fashion trend, attempting to lure Fred from her reclusive state, and hanging with Angel and his gang when they weren't working.

But most of all, she thought of Faith.

Buffy tripped over the uneven pavement, and shook herself from her dazed state. Finally taking notice of her surroundings, she realized that she stood in front of the Bronze. The sign flashed lazily, flickering every few moments or so, and the thumping beat of music drifted into the night. She was reminded of the club in LA and briefly closed her eyes, remembering the intoxicating rhythm and sensation of closely, compacted bodies. She remembered the happy, carefree way she had felt after a few drinks, and then the numbness that followed. The few hours between leaving the club and arriving at the Hyperion where she hadn't felt empty; where she had forgotten about Glory; where she wasn't searching for the part of her that she'd lost. Jutting her chin out defiantly Buffy crossed the street. She needed a drink.

"About to hit it pretty hard, are we pet?"

Buffy stopped and sighed, her shoulders visibly dropping as she turned to face him.

"Spike."

"Buffy." Her name sounded strange coming from his lips. Surprisingly, she found she missed his usual drawled "Slayer".

"Haven't seen you around lately," she noted aloud.

"Went into hiding. Some G'hask heard I offed his boys," he replied, surprising her.

"Really?"

"You actually care?"

"Good point. What do you want?" she asked, not having the strength to begin a fight.

"Was coming for a drink myself."

"And?"

"Well, unless you want to drown your sorrows alone how 'bout we hit the grog together?" he repeated, and Buffy shrugged.

They strode towards the club together, heading for the back entrance like they always did. They were suddenly accosted by two dark shadows, whose yellow eyes pierced the shadows. Buffy leapt back in surprise, while Spike effortlessly pulled out a stake and dispatched the both of them. He heard a soft sob from behind him.

"I just…want it to stop," Buffy whispered, slumping against the wall of the club. "The others want me to be normal, to get a proper job. Nine to five, day in, day out. I was broke, you know?" She glanced up and laughed bitterly when she saw his unsurprised face. "Of course you do. Everyone around here knew except me. But they want me to move on… live like I should have been living. I can't go back, though. I complained about it and I hated it, but I can't go back. I can't go back to being a normal girl. Because that isn't me anymore and…and…"

She trailed off as she realized that she was pouring her heart out to Spike. Spike, of all people. He remained still, watching her, reading her. He didn't make her feel guilty. He didn't make her feel uncomfortable.

"What made you like me?" she asked suddenly.

A look of surprise flickered across his face and he opened his mouth before quickly closing it again. "I thought you were easy on the eyes, luv. Even when I wasn't buggered by the chip I appreciated a good looking bird. And you got spunk, and you're fierce and powerful… witty. When you fight you become even more beautiful, because you're dancing and you're…"

"The Slayer," she finished for him. "You liked me because I was the Slayer. The gang stood by me because I was the Slayer. What happens now? Will you start to like Faith? Will the gang become Faith's gang?"

Spike took three long strides toward her and gripped her arms painfully hard. "No," he replied through gritted teeth. "No, because you're still you…"

Buffy shook her head sadly, and extracted herself from his grip. "But I'm not. Without the Slayer, I'm not me. I'm half a person. And I can't live like that."

Spike studied her, and she was grateful that he didn't interrupt.

"The others don't realize. Faith did. And I told her to leave."

"What do you want, Buffy?" he asked gently, lifting her chin so she looked into his blue eyes.

"I want… to be me."

She pulled away from him. Glancing at Spike's uncertain face Buffy knew she wouldn't find what she needed here. She turned and walked away, swallowing the screams that caught in her throat.

To Be Continued…

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