~~~~~~~~~~~

"Please leave your message after the tone."

Beep.

"Hey B. I just thought I'd leave you a number in case you needed to get in touch while we're on the road. The cell number is 0154348. We should be there by evening. See you soon, girlfriend."

Beep.

~~~~

Clothes littered Lindsey's apartment. He had a cleaning service, of course, and usually their visits were closely spaced enough so that there was no time for this much mess to accumulate. Faith's concept of packing, however, was turning the place into modern art. A conceptual design of every horizontal surface shrouded in Armani or Prada.

Currently she was rejecting the zillionth shirt as inappropriate.

"I give up. You have nothing to wear. This will do." Faith nodded in decision and walked over to where Lindsey was standing, reading over his daily planner for the weekend.

"Put that away and help me put this on you." Faith was discovering a clucky side she hadn't realised was in her. It was just commonsense for her to help Lindsey with things like getting dressed. Two hands are better then one. Three hands, aside from all the kinky images brought up by the thought, were basically not much more useful then two hands. When Lindsey's shirt was buttoned she bent down to tie his shoelaces.

"You look like Mary, washing Christ's feet." Lindsey joked. He'd felt awkward with Faith helping him so much, at first. But there was always an awkwardness in the air between them anyway. Neither had ever been comfortable with the concept of 'relationship', and even caring about each other as much as they did wasn't enough to dispel that fear of getting too close.

"I thought Mary was the one who gave birth as a virgin." Faith quirked an eyebrow up with a smile.

"There's two Marys in the Jesus story."

"Oh, ok. I thought Judas was the usual character to make a comparison with for you or me though." Faith finished tying the laces and stood again, stretching her arms up to work out a kink in her shoulder. Lindsey moved behind her and started giving a one-handed massage to the cramped area.

"See, I don't think that metaphor works properly." Lindsey argued. "Because Judas kissed Jesus when he betrayed him. I'm pretty sure I'd remember throwing myself at Angel like that."

That gave Faith the gigglefits. She put her hand over her mouth but couldn't stop shaking with laughter. Lindsey smiled. He loved to see her happy, this trip away was putting her in high spirits.

"Come on, the car's going to be here soon." he reminded her.

~~~~

Faith had given up on being nonchalant over everything that happened to her, so her awe at the minibar and television in the back of the limo was plainly showing on her face. Being a kept girl certainly had an upside.

When Lindsey had told her two nights before that he had to go to Sunnydale on the weekend, she'd been a little nervous. Wait, scratch that – she'd be terrified out of her mind. Pilots who bombed cities into ruins didn't usually circle back for social calls later. But a phone call to Buffy later – testing the water, seeing if it was going to burn her again – had made Faith decide to give it a shot. If worst came to worst, she could get the hell outta there, and if worst didn't come to worst, then she could do a little of that twelve-stepping and make up for a little of the mayhem she'd wrought.

"Can I open the top and stand up?" she begged Lindsey. He rolled his eyes, not out of exasperation but in playacting reluctance. She was so alive when she was happy. "Please please please."

"Oh all right." he agreed in tones of mock exhaustion. It was a bright day, colder then usual, a chill that had started a few weeks before showed no sign of lifting. Faith pressed a button to open the panel in the roof and then stood with her upper body out, wind streaming through her hair.

"Wow. Lind, you gotta try this!" Faith called. Lindsey looked down at the papers he should read over before they got there, then at the shape of Faith, half-obscured by the roof. What the hell, you only lived once. As far as Lindsey knew anyway.

Putting the papers aside, he joined Faith up in the space above the cabin of the stretch car. The roar in his ears from the wind was deafening, but gave one hell of a rush. Faith looked over at him and laughed, and he laughed back without even thinking about it. This is what people meant by the good life.

~~~~~

"Are you going to at least meet the Scoobies or go straight to your evildoin?" Faith asked, sprawled across one of the soft bench seats. They'd closed the top when the cold got too much, when their hair was about as windknotted as could be. Out of all the facets of what they shared, the imbalance between their morals was turning out to be a fairly non-problematic one. Faith just accepted what Lindsey did, and Lindsey in turn didn't interfere as Faith fumbled to find out who she really was.

"We'll be there before nightfall. I can come say hello. And all day tomorrow I'm free."

Faith nodded.

"Good. I feel safer when you're around." It didn't make any sense, she was a hell of a lot stronger then he was. But, then again, it did make sense, somehow. Two wrongs may not make a right but two unbalanced people had somehow stumbled on a way to find an even keel together.

~~~~

Faith's knuckles hit the wood of the door twice, the wood warm from a day in the path of the sunlight that dappled the courtyard outside. Evening in Sunnydale was a warm, lazy thing, unlike the cold day-to-night time currently offered in LA. Her hand was shaking.

Buffy opened the door. For a second her gaze was that of a natural warrior, darting from Lindsey's arm to Faith's face to where they were standing in relation to possible weapons. Then the instinct fell away and she threw herself at Faith, hugging her tight. It was an embrace more forceful then either of them could have given anybody else. Nobody in the whole world was as strong as Buffy and Faith were. There were some terribly dark moments in their shared history, but this was more important. Faith could feel how lonely Buffy was in a little corner of her spirit, felt the same loneliness herself. Nobody in the world was the same as them, they had to stick together.

Faith couldn't expect every member of the Sunnydale gang to be as forgiving though. She was still scared.

Willow was just inside, sitting on a couch with a book on her lap. Red was the only teenager Faith had ever met who read books that thick when it wasn't study or averting the end of the world. She looked up, surprise ghosting across her face before she clamped down and shut her expression down into stony indifference. So, Buffy hadn't told anyone that Faith was coming.

Faith wasn't going to apologise. The words would sound empty, and couldn't fix anything.

"Hey Willow." she ventured.

"Hey." the young witch replied shortly. "Buffy, can I talk to you for a minute?"

While Buffy and Willow talked in hushed voices in the next room, Faith stood, feeling aimless and out of place. Lindsey slipped his hand into hers with a comforting squeeze. She gave him a small smile in return.

The hushed voices rose into shouts. Faith squeezed Lindsey's hand, needing the support.

"You heard what Cordelia said on the phone! She tortured Wesley. She's evil, Buffy."

"Angel did things to people when he was bad and people gave him another chance."

"Yeah, because he did good stuff to make for it."

"You haven't given her a chance."

"Why do you always give people another chance, Buffy? Ok, so she's had it rough. Big deal. I'm not going to make up with her just because you want everything nice and friendly. I hate her."

When Buffy returned, she was alone. Willow obviously wasn't going to come out until Faith was gone.

"Um, I think I'll go with Lindsey to the hotel." Faith said, feeling uncomfortable. Buffy looked a little upset, but she did understand. There wasn't going to be any forgiving or forgetting here.

"Can you at least introduce us?" the blonde Slayer asked.

"Right. Buffy, this is Lindsey, Lindsey, this is Buffy." Lindsey knew all about Buffy, of course. Buffy knew nothing about Faith's new companion.

"Pleased to meet you." Buffy held her hand out, Lindsey had to let go of Faith's for a moment while he shook it. Faith felt worlds better when he touched her palm again. Being this dependant on someone was more then a little scary, but she didn't think she could stop now. Like when you've launched yourself off a rock forty feet above water, and you have enough time to think 'no turning back' before you hit the lake.

"Likewise." Lindsey said politely.

"Give me a call tomorrow." Faith said to Buffy as they left. "I mean, if you want to. If you don't, that's cool."

"I'll be sure to." Buffy assured her with a smile. Forgive and forget.

~~~~~

"Lind?" Faith was lying against his chest on the double bed, her hair fanned out across him.

"Yes?"

"What'd you think of Buffy?" the question had been bugging her. After Angel and whatshisname, Riley, Faith had decided that Buffy must have something akin to a siren's call that made guys love her so totally they could barely look at anyone else.

"She's a beautiful brat. I knew that anyway, from what you'd told me." Lindsey played with Faith's hair, winding it between his fingers idly. It was dusk, he'd have to get to work soon. But for now there was calm. Faith had been understandably quiet since they'd left Buffy and come to the hotel.

"So you thought she was beautiful?" Faith sounded unsurprised and sad.

"Hey." Lindsey tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. "I also think Picasso paintings are beautiful. Doesn't mean I like them anywhere near as much as I like you."

That made Faith look a little happier. She snuggled down against his chest again. "Lind?"

"Yes?"

"Can I come with you tonight?"

~~~~

This felt like home for Faith. She knew these graves, these gnarled old trees. Sunnydale cemetery was as much a home as anywhere else she'd ever had.

An old crypt, the bushes cleared away around the door and a few cigarette butts littering the exposed ground. The stake in Faith's hand felt comfortable, like a part of her she'd been missing. Part of her reason for coming was terror at the thought of being alone, part of it a wish to protect Lindsey from anything that might happen. She'd lost too much not to protect what she still had.

"Anybody here?" she asked, sauntering into the airless room designed as a home for the dead and being used for exactly that purpose. Faith was doing an almost flawless impersonation of Faith, Lindsey thought to himself as he followed her down a short flight of stairs. If he didn't know better, he'd swear she was still the swaggering, lawless, conscience-free girl that Sunnydale knew her as.

"Who wants to know?" an English accent asked her from the shadows as Spike stepped out, looking slightly sleep-crumpled but otherwise exactly as he always looked. "Hey, I know who you are."

"Yeah, well, we're even then I guess." Faith sat herself down on the altar in the centre of the room, brushing aside the dingy blanket covering it.

"Last I heard, you were in jail."

"Yeah, well, I'm not now." Faith replied with a shrug. Impeccable performance, Lindsey wondered for a second if acting this was very easy for Faith, or impossibly hard. As was common when it came to Faith, he didn't know which was more likely.

"So I'm right then, you are Faith."

"And you're William the Bloody." Faith grinned, her smile so different from the one he was used to seeing on her face that Lindsey felt chilled by it. She would have been a terrifying enemy, if it had ever come to that.

"Who's the suit?" Spike asked, flicking his head to where Lindsey stood in the doorway.

"Lindsey McDonald. I have a proposition for you."

~~~~~

Lindsey had planned his weekend to include a day for Spike to think the proposal over. The way things turned out, though, nowhere near that amount of time was needed.

"Ok, I'll do it." Spike said as soon as Lindsey and Faith had finished speaking.

"You don't need any time to consider the pros and cons – "

"What cons?" Spike laughed, taking a drag from his cigarette. "You get my chip out, I help you kill Angel. That's what we call my kind of plan."

In Faith's new moral code, this didn't really count as a transgression. Spike was evil anyway, and wanted to kill Angel anyway. Eventually would have gotten the chip out anyway. That's what she'd been telling herself, until remembering that anything that needs justifying to yourself is probably not a good thing. Upon reaching that conclusion, Faith had given up. She wasn't killing or maiming anybody. That still counted as reformed, no matter what else she was doing with her time.

Since Spike had agreed so readily, there was no reason to stay in Sunnydale any longer. Faith called Buffy from the road on the way back.

"Hey B. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I was up."

"I just wanted to tell you I'm going home."

"Oh, ok." Buffy sounded surprised. "You weren't here long."

"Yeah, I know, but Lindsey got everything finished faster then he thought. And by the way, I don't think you'll have any more trouble from Spike somehow."

"Oh, ok." Buffy said again, sounding doubly surprised. "Thankyou. I'm not heartbroken at seeing the end of that particular vamp. I guess I owe you one."

More like I owe you one less, Faith thought silently to herself. If it were even true to begin with.

"Well, I gotta go. It was good to see you." Faith said finally. She'd just wanted to hear Buffy's voice again, she wasn't sure exactly why.

"Yeah, we'll keep in touch." Buffy enthused, neither of them actually believing the words.

"Sure. Good luck to ya, B." Faith closed the mouthpiece before Buffy could reply, looking at the dark road outside the bright bubble of the car. Spike and Lindsey were talking about things she'd rather not hear. This had to be the most unhealthy situation for Faith to be in, from a mental wellbeing point of view. She couldn't live like this for long, torn between her own desire to change and Lindsey's choices in the opposite direction. Couldn't break away either.

~~~~

The building Faith lived in had been built by Wolfram and Hart, which wasn't that obvious at first glance. Second glance offered a few little oddities. The apartment numbers weren't sequential. Lindsey lived in apartment number thirty three, the next apartment over was forty one. Faith lived two floors down, her address was apartment twenty, which was beside apartments fifteen and twenty seven. It was illogical, until a visitor actually went inside any of the apartments and noticed the small brass numbers stamped on each door handle between rooms. Faith's living room was twenty, but her kitchen was twenty one, her bedroom twenty four. An extra precaution against some of the more nocturnal tenants, every room was a different residence that needed inviting into. The bigger the apartment, the more numbers it used up.

Spike got a ground floor pad, one that had been recently vacated due to unforseen death. Everyone in the place was somehow tied to the lawfirm, so tenant turnover was frequent. Spike liked his apartment a lot. It was mostly decorated in red and black, the last inhabitant hadn't been big on muted earth tones or pastels. It was almost dawn, and he was tired. Much as he wanted the chip out, sleep was pretty much a requirement at this point.

In the kitchen he found a fridge filled with blood, the packets stacked like rare gemstones, gleaming in the faint light. A taste test proved them to be human blood, and not just namby-pamby donor blood either, this was tart and tasty scared-out-of-their-little-mortal-mind-at-time-of-bleeding blood. There was a note attached to the white door of the freezer section, stuck on with a magnet shaped like a shark. Spike appreciated that.

"Welcome to Wolfram and Hart. Any special needs should be made known to a member of our staff. We look forward to working with you!"

The exclamation point was the final touch that made Spike decide that this was going to be a whole lot of fun.

~~~~

Faith rubbed her eyes. Who the hell was banging on her door at this time of day? A glance over at her alarm clock told her that it was only one in the afternoon. Her forehead wrinkled up with annoyance. Even the more evil people in the building were usually considerate enough to respect people's schedules. Faith was not a morning person, and one pm was close enough to morning to count. Whoever was banging was just plain rude.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming! Keep your skin on." Faith grumbled.

Spike was standing outside, tapping his foot and looking around. Sizing up the joint, Faith thought.

"Yes?" she asked, still annoyed at being awoken.

"Can we de-cyborg me now?" Spike asked. Faith looked at him in incomprehension. "Can we get the chip out yet?" he tried.

"You gotta ask Lindsey about that. I don't work at the firm." Faith didn't try to hide her jaw-cracking yawn. She just wanted more sleep.

"Well what time does he get up?" Spike sighed with annoyance of his own. At least the whelps in Sunnydale went out of their way to do good at every opportunity. Faith looked like she could care less about Spike's desperate need to get the microchip as far away from his body as possible.

"Around four. Same as me, when idiot vampires don't wake me up early." Faith walked away from the front door towards her kitchen, needing coffee more then most animals need air. Spike stood in the hallway, looking vaguely expectant. Faith worked out why and waved her hand at him.

"You can come in, you can sit on the couch and watch TV or something until Lindsey heads into work." Giving his access to the living room was basically harmless. How much trouble could he really cause to her television or her magazines?

Spike stepped through the doorway and sat down, flicking through the channels offered. There was nothing on. Faith came back out of the kitchen, drinking her daily shot of caffeine.

"Do you have any videos?" Spike asked, looking around the room with his usual calculating gaze. Faith shook her head.

"No."

"What about music? Anything good?" Spike noticed the large stereo in the corner.

"No, I just moved in." Faith thought it likely her definition of 'good' and Spike's would be slightly different anyway.

"What do you do here for fun anyway? I'd be bored out of my bleeding skull in a place like this."

Faith shrugged. "I'm not here that much."

"Too busy shagging lawyer boy upstairs?" Spike asked with a smirk. Faith looked up at ceiling, as if asking God to give her strength. No wonder Buffy had been pleased at the thought of someone dusting him. Forget pure evil, Spike was just annoying.

"Do you have something better to do with your time then irritate me?" she asked the bleach-blond vampire, putting her coffee cup down (without a coaster, she could imagine the mayor turning over in his grave – or wherever they had put all the snake bits).

"Not really." Spike put his hands behind his head and leaned back with a grin. Faith sighed.

"Look, I would like to get some more sleep, or at least some quiet for a few hours. Why don't you run along home and we'll come and get you when we're good and ready?"

Spike shook his head. "Nah. I think I'll stay here and make wry observations on the pathetic state of affairs that is your young life. Sound good to you?"

"No." Faith opened the front door again.

"You humans have no sense of humor, know that?" Spike said as he left. Faith was just glad he'd taken the hint and left her alone.

She looked at the daily newspaper sitting on her front doormat. Maybe she could find a job, perhaps her life would fall into place a little more if she was using her time for something productive.

Faith imagined the kind of job she could apply for. 'Wanted: one ex-evil vampire Slayer. Must have own transportation.' There couldn't be many things she was qualified for. Oh well, she'd get a waitress position and work her way up. Something to get her out of the house for a few hours, anyway.

~~~~

Spike lit another smoke as he walked back down to his apartment. The stairs and the elevator in the building were both designed for people who preferred the no-window look. The stairs killed a little bit more of his time, at least. He just wanted to get the chip out and have some fun. The fact that he could attack Angel with or without the chip struck him as something he probably shouldn't mention to Wolfram and Hart. Best to let them think it was in their best interests to re-fang him.

As he opened his door the front entrance to the apartment next door opened and a slight blonde figure stepped out, clad in a figure-hugging blue dress.

"Hey neighbour." she said with a smile. Spike looked shocked, to say the least. His eyebrows were doing their best to become part of his hairline.

"Darla. What a nice surprise. Won't you come in?" He kicked the now-unlocked door open with his heel and motioned her to come in. "I heard Angel swept you under the rug, literally."

"I heard he did the same to you, only not so literally." she replied, her words barbed but coupled with the kind of innocent-and-evil smile only Darla could pull off.

Spike shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I plan on evening that particular score fairly soon."

"Then it looks like we're working together. Wolfram and Hart are quite anxious for our help." Darla smiled again, turning her body from side to side in a gesture that made Spike wonder how he'd gone so long without thinking of her. They'd made quite a pack, once upon a time. Angelus, Drusilla, Darla and Spike. One golden-haired mother and three brunette children, a family of the most homicidal kind. The pack had splintered in the end, of course, but it had been a great time.

"I'm really starting to like Los Angeles." Spike sat down on his own couch. This room was so much better then Faith's living area. He seriously hoped that the girl hadn't chosen the peach-and-lavender color scheme. He'd thought more of her. Although, between Angelus and Dru, he'd have no more truck with dark beauties with insane eyes. Not that Faith seemed as insane as people had made out to him she was.

"So am I." Darla sat down opposite him in an armchair. "There's enough darkness here to sustain us for eternity. Like old times. The rich are as blind as the old aristocracy, they never see the poor dying right on the street beside them. Like shooting fish in a barrel."

Spike swallowed a little, if he'd had to breathe he would have been doing so a little heavier. Darla's eyes gleamed at the thought of the mayhem she could cause.

"Once I get this chip out, I'm going to eat ten of the biggest, juiciest wannabe actresses I can find, then some street urchins for desert." Spike vowed to himself, mouth watering at the thought of being able to hunt again.

"That's right, you've got a chip. Such a pity you're… impotent. We could have so much fun." Darla whispered, leaning in close to him. Spike growled, only half in warning. That made Darla grin, her face morphing into the demon. That was enough to send Spike over the edge, grabbing at her and kissing her hungrily.

Hell, he had a few hours to kill anyway, and it beat watching old soap operas.

~~~~

Faith couldn't sleep after Spike had left. The jolt of caffeine probably hadn't helped with that. She read through the want ads in the paper, finally calling up a Mexican restaurant that was looking for kitchenhands. They agreed to give her an interview, which then led to a search through her wardrobe for something she could wear to it. A pair of black jeans and a tight grey tshirt was appropriate enough. She put the ensemble aside to wear to the restaurant the next afternoon at three, a time she jotted onto her calendar.

She tried to paint on her easel, but just wasn't in the mood. The smell of the paint was nice though, she liked having a hobby. It made for a better time-waster then killing the innocent, anyway.

The ring of the telephone made her jump. She'd never lived in a place with a phone connection before, now she even had the internet. She didn't use it though, even with the odds of running into Willow at almost nil she didn't want to chance it.

"Hello?" Faith wondered if she had a good phone manner. Well, the Mexican place was giving her an interview, so she guessed so.

"How are you?" It was Lindsey. She thought that was cute, that he called even though he lived so close by.

"Pretty much peachy keen." Faith pulled faces at herself in the mirror as she talked. Maybe she should pierce her eyebrow instead of getting another tattoo.

"Glad to hear it. What're your plans for tonight?"

"Nothing much. I've got a job interview, but that's not until tomorrow afternoon."

"Would you like to go out to dinner tonight then?" Lindsey was looking through his address book as he talked, choosing which restaurant to make reservations at.

"Sounds like fun. Hey, Lind?"

"Yes?"

"Should I get an eyebrow ring?"

~~~~

The return of Spike to the land of the lethal took almost as much time as his decision to come to LA. The Wolfram and Hart doctors made an incision on his arm and inserted a small grey object under the skin.

"Hey, I said I wanted it removed, not more gadgets in me." Spike objected. He wondered if the 'no violence to humans' policy of the original chip was programmed to include lawyers in the definition.

"The placement of the circuitry is too close to vital organs for easy, safe removal." the doctor explained patiently. "This second chip has a magnetic opposite to the first. It voids any signals sent."

"So I can hurt people again." Spike prompted. The doctor nodded. Spike grinned evilly, trying to remember the last time he'd eaten a medical practitioner.

"Good doctors are so hard to find." a voice from the doorway made Spike pause. An older man, along with Lindsey, Darla, and a woman he'd never seen, was standing in the doorway.

"Would I really do a thing like that?" Spike asked with a charming smile. The one who'd spoken, the man, nodded in greeting to Spike and turned to go. Lindsey and Darla followed him, Darla giving Spike a wink over her shoulder as she left.

"We have no doubt that you would. Part of the reason we hired you." the unknown woman said, striding over confidently and holding her hand. "Lilah Morgan."

"Yeah, well, when do I get to do some killing?" Spike asked. Lilah smiled.

"Initiative. That's something I like in my co-workers."

~~~~

"I can't believe they honestly expect us to work for them! I mean, just because they brought you back from hell and made me capable of hurting humans again, they really think we're going to cooperate."

Darla pretended to listen to Spike's half-drunken ranting, watching the slightly built bartender who was serving them. He was pretty enough in a boring, California way. She wondered if he was just as bland looking inside out. She wanted to find out.

"We hafta showem who'ze boss." Spike slurred, waving his dogend around for emphasis. "Shakem, shakem up a little."

"How do you think we should do that?" Darla asked, beckoning the pretty boy over. She was too hungry to play with her food for long, but she could wait a minute, until Spike was finished his diatribe. She wanted to share.

"Gotta make em scared of us, don't we? Gotta make em tremble in their whatsanames, boots."

"I didn't notice any of them wearing boots." Darla said, just for the joy of seeing Spike's train of thought momentarily derailed while he considered that. Then she got an idea.

"How about we kill one of them?" she suggested, before turning and giving the bartender a napkin with a message on it telling him to meet her out the back in five minutes. He read it and smiled at her. Darla smiled back in her innocent-but-evil way.

"Yeah. Yeah! We'll kill one of them. Lindsey, the bloke who lives upstairs. That'll showem." Spike agreed. "I know jus' the place to do it too."

"Good." Darla smiled, then grabbed Spike's hand and dragged him to out the back of the bar. Going out to dinner with a lover was always a good time.

~~~~

When they'd finished dinner, Faith and Lindsey went back to his apartment. It struck Lindsey that they always went to his place, never hers, and Faith always left as soon as any bedroom activity was over. She never lingered anywhere for longer then she wanted to, he knew that. Why she never wanted to linger, though, was something that troubled him. It wasn't like he didn't lavish all the affection he could on her, no matter how screwed up that affection may have been.

As she started kissing him and tugging at his collar, Lindsey wanted to stop and ask her. It was more important that they talk about this. But Faith would hear none of it, silencing him quite effectively with her mouth. He sighed and responded. It was like he'd told her, there was time for everything tomorrow. He'd talk to her about it then.

~~~~

The Mexican restaurant was run by a small German woman, the oddity of that making Faith smile. Gretel had hired her on the spot.

"You work from three until ten tonight, yes?" she asked, or ordered, Faith. Either way, Faith nodded in agreement. It was easy work, and she didn't mind the repetition.

A young black man came to the back door and said that they had some food for his charity. Faith found the boxes put aside and offered to help carry them out. The man, he said his name was Gunn, thanked her for her help.

"That for decoration or you believe that stuff?" he asked when the boxes were loaded, gesturing to her neck. Faith put her hand up to touch the tiny gold cross that Lindsey had given her.

"Protection." she said frankly. He'd either think she was a crazy whack job or a paranoid whack job. Faith didn't really care. To her surprise, Gunn nodded.

"It's good to see young people with a realistic view of the world. How late you working tonight?"

"Ten." Faith wondered how many people there really were in the world who knew what the world was really like.

"Got any other 'protection'?" Gunn asked her, looking concerned. Faith shook her head.

"No. I'll be fine, don't worry."

"Here. Just in case." he handed her a stake, a good, sturdy, thick one made out of pale ash wood. Faith tucked it into the back of the waistband of her jeans with a smile.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Gunn nodded in polite farewell as he climbed up next to the boxes on the back of the truck. "See you round."

~~~~

Darla and Spike cornered Lindsey as soon as he got inside the building. He made a break for the elevators but they'd been expecting that. His fear hung thick in the air, the cloying smell making the two undead sets of nostrils flare with hunger.

Darla struck first, burying her fangs in the side of Lindsey's neck. It took all the self control she had to break away when he was drained enough to be docile. They took the elevator up the Faith's floor, Spike kicked the door to the girl's apartment in. Throwing Lindsey inside, he stepped over the threshold and turned to Darla, who was waiting with her arms crossed, game face in place. Spike lifted Lindsey to his feet.

"Invite her in." he ordered the half-conscious man. Lindsey mumbled something incoherent. Spike shook him, making his head fall forward.

"C'min." Lindsey's voice was slurred, his throat bleeding sluggishly. Darla smiled as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

Now the fun could start.

~~~~

Faith knew something was wrong as soon as she rounded the corner in the hallway to her front door. The lock was hanging loose, kicked in from it's usual placement. Dark, icy fear began to form in the pit of her stomach. Something was very, very wrong here.

The peach-and-lavender decor of her front room was gone. Now it looked far more like Spike's residence. Red everywhere, on the carpet, the walls, the sofa. Especially the sofa, where Lindsey lay like a discarded toy. Faith ran over and knelt beside him, shaking his shoulders as best she could without hurting any of the wounds.

"Lind? Can you hear me?"

After a few seconds, an eternity, Lindsey's eyes slid open to half mast. His breathing was a wet, shallow sound.

"Faith... love you..." he murmured. Typical, Faith thought to herself. The first time in her life anyone had ever said 'I love you' and she wasn't in a position to appreciate it.

"Lindsey McDonald, don't you dare die on me!" she shouted, shaking his shoulders again when his eyes had begun to close. "Hold on. Please, just hold on."

Putting Lindsey's arm around her shoulders, Faith stood up carefully and moved as quickly as she could out the door and down the hallway to the elevator. She'd go for help the only place she knew to get it.

~~~~

The smell of blood hit Angel's senses like a hammer seconds before Faith and Lindsey came through the door. The man was unconscious by this stage, Faith put him down on the floor carefully. It was obvious how close to death he was, the skin of his eyelids purpling and his lips devoid of color save for a blue tint.

Cordelia stood up so fast she knocked her chair over, Wesley dropped his coffee cup.

"Help him!" Faith shouted at Angel. He looked at Lindsey and shook his head.

"He's dying. I can't do anything." There were a million questions that they could ask her, time for none of them.

"Make him like you. You have to save him!" Faith was frantic, her eyes wild. Angel stepped in closer, like a lion tamer careful of how much farther he could tread safely.

"I'm not going to do that, Faith."

Reaching to the back of her jeans, Faith pulled out the stake Gunn had given her. "Help him or I'll kill you where you stand." her hands were shaking.

"You can't do that. You know you can't." Angel said calmly, praying that he was right about that.

"I can't let him die." Faith said through gritted teeth, holding the stake up threateningly. It was an empty threat though, and both Angel and Faith knew this.

Wesley, standing beside Cordelia, was reminded suddenly of another night, another Slayer, and words so much like the ones Faith was saying, muttered with the same force, the same heartbroken desperation.

Faith stood frozen, the small sharpened piece of wood raised, for a moment. Angel didn't move. The frame stayed static until Faith crumpled, dropping the stake and curling her body around Lindsey's. She was shaking with sobs.

Wesley knew that this was the last moment he could say anything. He wondered why he cared at all.

"Angel…" he said before halting. Angel's head whipped around to look at him. Wesley didn't know what to say. He hoped Angel would understand what he wanted to say but had no idea how.

Cordelia, obviously understanding and seeing that Angel still needed a push to take action, moved in towards Faith, touching her shoulder lightly.

"Faith? Come on, move away, give Angel some room." her voice was soft. Faith, wracked by soul-shaking sobs, moved away a little, her fingers still interlocked with Lindsey's limp ones.

Angel looked between his two employees, incomprehension in his eyes. Wesley held his gaze.

"She'll be lost if you don't." he said simply. Angel obviously wasn't happy with the idea, but saw the quasi-logic to the plea. Kneeling next to Lindsey, Angel slapped his cheek lightly.

"Lindsey?"

Faith sobbed again, a little hiccup. Angel gave up on trying to wake the man and bit into his own wrist. The bitter vampire blood that welled up tasted dead on his tongue, dusty and rotten. He choked on it, moving the wound away from his mouth and putting it to Lindsey's lips.

Another frozen second, where nobody moved and nobody spoke. Then Lindsey's eyes opened wide, the pupils tiny pinpoints of black suddenly dilating wide as he gulped at the bite.

Faith sobbed again, a hopeful sound as Lindsey gripped her hand. His hair, matted and dark with blood, was sticking to his cheeks. Her own face was painted with lines of gore from where he had fallen against her as she had carried him.

"It's ok, Lind. You're gonna be ok." she whispered. His eyes whirled, taking in what was going on. Coughing a little against Angel's wrist, Lindsey struggled to sit up. Angel moved away, pressing his other thumb against the ragged gash.

"Thankyou, thankyou." Faith said to Angel. He just turned away. Lindsey glared at his back, sucking a smear of blood off his lower lip and wincing at the burning pleasure/pain it tasted of.

The marks Darla and Spike had left were fading on his skin, knitting in like a video on fast forward.

"Angel." Lindsey said, his voice harsh. The vampire didn't turn. Lindsey stood up slowly, letting Faith sling his arm across her shoulders and support his weight. He turned to Wesley and Cordelia.

"Thankyou." he said, before walking out of the room with as much dignity as he could find.

~~~~

Faith didn't believe in regretting things. She didn't regret it. But she was afraid.

After all, vampires and vampire Slayers didn't play happy families that well.

His hand was in hers, holding on as if she was all that was keeping him from drowning. She could relate. For the first few minutes after they left Angel, Wesley and Cordelia, Lindsey's breath came out in rough, short gasps, before stopping altogether. He didn't speak.

Neither did Faith.

They made it back to his apartment eventually, the stickiness on their skin giving way to the flaky texture of dried blood. Faith felt ill.

He fell exhaustedly onto the bed, looking as sickly as she felt, his eyes closed. Faith stood, at a loss, wondering if she should be ready for an attack, from Lindsey or from two certain blonde intruders. No, they couldn't come here, they'd never been invited.

What had happened in the last hour hit her all at once, overwhelming her and causing her to fall to her knees. How many tears could she cry in one night? Exhaustion and stress and terror and confusion battered at her and left her feeling even smaller then she had when she'd broken down in Angel's arms, such a short time and such a long time ago.

She sensed Lindsey moving a spilt second before he put his arm around her, stroking her hair and rocking her gently. She leaned against him. He helped her to move onto the bed, where they held onto each other as if their lives depended on it.

~~~~

"Ah, Lindsey. Glad to see you could join us." Holland welcomed him as he opened the door to the boardroom gingerly.

Darla and Spike both looked over in shock, their jaws dropping and eyes narrowing. Lindsey smiled at them, a gloating smirk. Lilah's face looked like she'd just eaten something sour.

"You're looking a little pale there. Getting enough sun?" she asked. Lindsey gave a little half-shrug.

"Speaking of that, I was wondering if thicker curtains could be arranged for my office." he said conversationally to Holland.

"Of course. Any other alterations you need, just let us know." Always so accommodating. What a caring, compassionate boss.

~~~~~

The new curtains, installed almost as soon as he had asked for them, were pushed back now, the sprawling city lying like cheap glitter below. He could feel the night like a living animal. This place was beautiful and savage, like a bird of prey. After a few moments contemplating the view, he spun in his chair and picked up the telephone.

Faith was sitting at the apartment window with her knees curled up, looking out at the city. All the lights in Lindsey's apartment were turned off. She couldn't go back to hers until they'd put a new carpet down. Oh well, she'd meant to redecorate anyway. And Lindsey had wanted her here, he had been cryptic but emphatic, begging her to linger. Faith had intended to anyway. She felt safer with him nearby, and she needed very much to feel safe right now.

The telephone's ring jarred her out of her still, sad thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Are you ok?" Lindsey was concerned. Her voice had sounded so forlorn.

"All things considered." Faith tried to sound happier. He didn't need to have her as an added worry.

"Are you going to go back to work?"

"Maybe in a few days. Not just yet." Not until I know what the hell I'm going to do now. "Do you feel any different?"

"Yes." It was the truth, he did feel different. He heard Faith's muted gasp.

"Not in a de-souled way. I think I got rid of that a while ago." he assured her. Luckily, Faith's sense of humour was as dark as his.

"I'm glad. I'd hate to have to stake you after all the effort I've put into you." she said, playing with her little gold cross unconsciously while she spoke.

"Faith..."

"I know." Faith realised suddenly that she had known for quite a while. "I love you too."

She pulled the necklace off and threw it out the window.

~~~~~~

Darla put her arm around Spike's neck, standing behind the chair he was slouched in. A girl in bright blue pants and a black tshirt lay sprawled on the carpet in front of them, her eyes gazing up, dead.

"Don't sulk. We'll find a way to get them, don't worry. We'll get all of them."

Spike smiled slowly and half-turned, rubbing his cheek against Darla's.

"We'll make them see who's really in charge here."