13365/Faith, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship

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Faith, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship
Date of Scene: 24 May 2021
Location: Brendan Cemetery, Sunnydale
Synopsis: Spike gets a new drinking buddy.
Cast of Characters: Spike, Faith Lehane




Spike has posed:
The day was the worst time to be a vampire. They had to stay indoors and patiently wait for nightfall. And this time of the year, sunset was 8:12 PM and sunrise 5:34 AM, meaning that vampires like Spike could safely go about for all of nine hours, and 12 minutes, but you had to factor in time to get back to the safety of your crypt, nest, or wherever you bunkered down, so yeah, it was a tough spot.

Ordinarily, Spike would treat the sunlight as a mere inconvenience, but ever since he took a piece of rebar through the chest, dangerously close to the heart, to save a certain vampire slayer's life, he had been resting up... at least that was the plan. Fighting a Kraken wasn't part of that. Buffy had to re-bandage and keep an eye on him. Yeah, that was her excuse. Spike didn't buy it either.

He had been left in his crypt this morning, with Buffy, Blade, Nick, and even Thomas all talking amongst themselves just outside his doorway. Buffy had even stolen some of the Chinese food he had ordered, not that he blamed her. But she had shared it with Thomas.

Spike sat in his favorite chair, the television was on, showing Bloodsport, it had just started, so it wasn't all bad. He wore a black shirt, which covered the bandages over his chest, and black jeans. His favourite coat had been cleaned as best he could, but it had a hole in the back that still needed to be repaired. It was hanging up. Waiting for sundown was like watching grass grow. He then stormed up out of his chair, pacing, thinking to himself, visibly frustrated by the situation and his lot in life. It had been another edition of everybody's favorite game, kick the Spike.

Faith Lehane has posed:
There was a knock at his crypt door. Then immediately it was opened and it was everyone's favorite PITA. Faith swung the door all the way open, so the light from outside spilled in on the floor and likely made the vampire within uncomfortable if not a little smoky if he was close to that spot.

She strolled in as though she owned the place, her heavy black boots with the solid heel and steel toe clumping loudly on the floor. She did take a moment to close the door behind her. She was wearing a maroon t-shirt that was tight. A pair of jeans and her favorite denim jacket over top the shirt. 'Cause that was where she kept all her toys and pointy things. Never leave home without it.

"Hello, Spike. Long time no see. Heard you got turned into a shish kabob but they fucked up and didn't use wood. Too bad."

Spike has posed:
Spike was harder to spook than that. Although the polite knock, followed by swinging the unlocked door wide open was a new one. He even commented as the sunlight shone awfully close to his feet, "most people do one, or the other." And he reached into his pocket, pulling out his favorite lighter and a cigarette, lighting it up with practiced ease.

He did appreciate that she closed the door afterwards, and he gave her a polite nod as he moved to take a seat on the crypt within the mausoleum, which he often used as a shelf, table, or seat. He folded his legs as he sat there. "And to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked as nonchalantly as he could muster. He trusted Buffy. She would never stake him in a million years, unless he forced her to. Faith on the other hand, well, she wasn't quite so certain.

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Oh the pleasure is all mine," Faith said with that level of sarcasm that only an alien would be able to miss. She started to stroll around the crypt, taking it all in. Examining the furnishings then the outer areas, all the while taking loud steps with those boots. The thing is she didn't have to be loud. She just knew it annoyed people and that was one of her favorite things in the world to do. Even when that person was a vampire.

She came to a stop by his favorite chair and flopped into it bonelessly, sprawling with one leg hooked over the arm in an almost sideways position. "Nice. I should steal this for my place."

Then she looked up at him as he sat on that crypt, the fact that someone was /in/ there apparently of no matter. Unless they had been taken out. Was that worse or better? "I'm your babysitter. So be a good little boy and maybe I'll read you a bedtime story later."

Spike has posed:
"Is that right?" Spike asked with a tilt of his head to the right, a slightly piqued eyebrow, and the merest hint of a smirk across his lips. He took another drag of his cigarette, watching her stroll across the main room of the mausoleum, which served as his living room. There was a hole in the floor with a ladder, which led to a converted cavern. He had a bedroom down there, a bathroom, complete with shower, which ordinarily wouldn't be noteworthy, but the fact that Spike had managed to get electricity and indoor plumbing to a crypt was.

Up here, there was his television, a refridgerator, some lights, since he on rare occasion did actually spend time in here at night, usually when he was asked to protect Dawn and Joyce Summers, or he was lying low for some reason. His eyes never left her, not even when she sprawled over his favorite chair, and in that position. "Be my guest. I already wore out all the springs." He lied. The springs were just fine. But he didn't want her to take his chair.

"Buffy thinks I need a sitter?" He said, a mixture of bemusement and frustration in his voice, "well," he considered, "at least it wasn't Xander." He was trying to play it cool. But she could probably sense that it bothered him.

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith was like him in a lot of ways. One didn't give her an opening. A chance to learn what might bother. Because if they did? She'd most certainly use it. "I'm sure it's not really your chair anyway." Because really, he didn't tend to get things through proper channels. He liked to steal. She knew that much about him.

"After that whole tentacle monster, hentai wannabe, thing out at the docks, she thought you should stay in and stop hurting yourself worse. Something about if you don't heal, what good are you. Wait, that's what I said." Faith laughs at her own joke. "But it's still a good point!"

She glances around again and has to admit it is almost cozy. If one got past it being a crypt. "Oh! Xander is next shift. So get your earmuffs ready so you don't have to listen to him whine."

Spike has posed:
Faith being his babysitter was overkill, although she was one of the few people in the Scooby Gang who could stop Spike, if he decided that he didn't need a babysitter. And that stray thought had him smiling. It could be fun, but would have been a lot more fun if it were a fair fight. He against Faith was one thing, he with the chip making him feel pain from every strike gave her a sizeable advantage. He had fought worse odds, but not with a hole in his chest. So, she was overkill.

"Oh, you heard about that, did you?" He was proud of having helped to kill the Kraken, despite being hurt. "Is this some kind of twisted payback? You know, if I hadn't been there, you'd be the senior slayer now." His home was actually quite homey. Surprisingly so. Spike liked to talk a big game, but when he got down to the knitty gritty, he nested. He had places to sit, enough for himself and guests, the chair Faith was in, a small couch, modern conveniences, a microwave, and some other nicities.

Hearing that Xander was tomorrow, Spike leaned his head back, "stake me now," before looking at her, suddenly half-worried that she would take him up on that offer.

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Damn, so I should stake you so I can move up to the big office, huh?" Faith as as she is suddenly on her feet, moving toward him with silent steps. It wasn't even conscious. She just automatically fell into that predatory movement when she tapped into her abilities. Thing was, it happened without her thinking about it sometimes.

But she stopped halfway to him, that smirk back on her face as she slid her jacket off her shoulders. "I would've thought it'd be colder in a crypt," she murmurs as she sets it aside. But he'd be sorely mistaken if he thought that meant she was unarmed.

"Can't stake you unless you do something stupid like attack me or someone else. I had to hold up my hand and say Slayer's Honor and everything." She held up the fingers of her right hand like a mock Girl Scout. "Course, I rarely listen to authority figures. And B sure as fuck thinks she is that."

Spike has posed:
"You want it that bad, do you?" Spike asked, taking another drag of the cigarette. He had an ashtray on the side of the crypt, which he used to make sure the cigarette it didn't collapse on him. Before, she had made noise, a lot of noise, as she walked, but this time, she was as quiet as a mouse. What was she up to, Spike wondered.

He watched as she removed her jacket, and half smirked in response to her line about it not being that cold in his crypt. "Thick walls. It's well insulated. And the caves underneath are connected to a hot spring." Was that a joke, or did he have a natural hot tub down there? It would be just like Spike to have that and not actually tell anyone else about it.

"Long as I got this chip in my head, not much use to attack you. I hit you, we both hurt. Takes all the fun out of it." Her line about Buffy though caught him off guard, and he openly laughed, "that she does, yeah, that she does."

Faith Lehane has posed:
She took her jacket back with her and settled on his chair once again, same position but now with the jacket slung over the back. It sat a little oddly, letting him know there were likely stakes in there at the very least.

"It's inevitable, isn't it?" Faith mused as she settled back in. Her foot slung on the opposite side of the chair arm tapped idly to some rhythm she could hear but no one else. "I just have to wonder which of us is better. She's gotten more time with her Watcher. I think I have her beat in anger or rage. So who would win if it came down to it?"

Spike has posed:
Looking at her sitting in that position, one leg slung over the arm rest, Spike had to ask, "comfortable?" It wasn't exactly lady like, but whoever accused Faith of being a lady. She even now seemed to be tapping to some beat, emphasizing her posture. "Well, yeah, but I'm sure there's been some Slayer out there who lasted long enough to retire. I mean, all you really have to do is quit, walk away, not dust vampires, or demons, or any of the other nasties. Most aren't stupid enough to go looking for a fight with a slayer."

But now she was talking about herself and Buffy in a comparison. That was a road that did not end well for either of them. "Anger and rage are good, they can keep you alive, give you that second wind when your body is crying out to let up, but it dulls the senses too. Leaves you open. Not that either of you are particularly strategic. You're both fuelled by passion. At least, that's how I see it. She just doesn't like to admit it."

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Yeah, that's what Giles used to tell me. B too, come to think of it. That I need to calm down." Faith rolls her eyes and lets her head hang down over the opposite arm of the chair. At least she doesn't throw her hand up, back to her forehead, as she gives that vision of how she is put upon by the world. "And now I'm getting it from a vampire. Who says monsters aren't stupid enough to go after a Slayer."

She turned her head toward him, dark hair hanging down to almost brush the floor. Then she lifts her head to focus on him properly, eyes narrowing.

"But you did. So does that mean you're stupid?"

Spike has posed:
"Angel, Darla, and even Dru thought I was the first time. None of them were around the second, but I imagine they changed their tune." He was proud of having bested two slayers. As far as he knew, no other vampire in history had managed to kill two of them. Sure, he know fought on their side, but a victory is a victory, no matter what banner you fought under at the time.

"But I don't do that anymore." He gestured to his forehead, "chip. And..." he seemed to drag out that and, "I guess you Scoobies aren't that bad. Kind of growing on me, 'course, you tell that to any of them, and chip or no chip, I'll rip your throat out." It'd likely put him in a coma, but it'd be worth it.

Faith Lehane has posed:
That gets a low whistle. "From the stories I've heard, Drusilla thinking someone else is crazy seems a little surreal," Faith says with a little grin. She adjusts her position a little, so her back in the corner of one arm and the back of the chair. A little more comfortable. Still that boot tap taps on the air silently.

At his threat, she laughed. Actually laughed, not faked it. "Not really sure I'd call myself one of them. More the black sheep of the family that everyone isn't sure what to do with when I show up for Thanksgiving dinner." She sounded quite proud of that fact. "But your secret is safe." Then that wicked grin. "But you owe me one."

Spike has posed:
Without skipping a beat, he said "Welcome to the club, memberships dues are the first of every month," as she proudly announced herself to be in the black sheep Scooby club.

"Oh, Dru's harmless. Actually, she's a vicious monster the likes of which the world has rarely seen, but she's harmless, as vampires go. She's just out to have a bit of fun, a nice meal, like any other. You know, she used to do this..." and he caught himself reminiscing. He still had feelings for Drusilla, even if he had largely shifted his focus to someone else. "Sorry, old life, or unlife, if you prefer."

And then he decided to temp fate, "Oh, and what would I owe the great Faith for keeping my secret?"

Faith Lehane has posed:
As he started to lapse into his history with Drusilla, that caught Faith's attention. She was paying attention, seemingly involved in hearing the tale, and actually keeping her mouth shut.

Yet he stopped. Too bad.

His question brings the smile back to her face. "Nothing at the moment. I'll know when the time comes. Don't worry, I won't ask you to sacrifice yourself to save me or something. B can be the damsel." WHich to be fair, she wasn't even close to a damsel in distress. But Faith couldn't go complimenting or or something. They'd think she was ill. Though Spike might not since he didn't know her very well.

"So what do you do in here all day? I mean do you sleep? Or just sit around waiting for nightfall?"

Spike has posed:
He nodded his head up and down, and he put his cigarette out in the ashtray, then hopped off the crypt, "you want something to drink?" He would grab himself a beer, and whatever she wanted, which meant a beer, blood, or surprisingly, coffee. But most likely a beer.

Moving back towards the sort of 'living room' area of the mausoleum, taking a seat on the couch, opposite the chair. With the angles, he was looking straight at her and the corner she sat in. He had two sides of the couch to sit, so it may have been funny that he chose that one. Probably just being a good host, so he could look her in the eye as she spoke to him.

"Yeah, pretty much. Sleep, eat, blood or food, watch a bit of tele, see if I can find anything interesting on my phone," Spike used a prepaid phone, and he'd just buy, or steal more minutes whenever he needed extra data, or talk time. "But mostly sitting my ass, waiting, bored. Summer is the worst. Longer days, shorter nights."

Faith Lehane has posed:
When she saw what he grabbed, Faith said, "A beer works." Then he brought it over to her and she took it. A twist to pop the top off then she took a big swig before she focused on him again.

His position was noted and she shifted her posture. She took a moment to brace her arms on the chair to lift herself up, tucking that leg under her but at an angle so the sole of her boot was off the chair. She wasn't a complete animal! Then she sat back down, her thigh over her ankle of the opposite leg, that foot on the floor.

"Sounds like torture." Was she sympathizing with a vampire? What was the world coming to? "You should get one of those gaming consoles. PS6 or something. You can get them used for cheap. Helps hand-eye coordination while allowing for killing rampages at the same time. Win win!"

Spike has posed:
Spike popped the top of his beer, taking an equally big swig as Faith shifted and adjusted in her seat. "Just think about all the vampires out there, patiently waiting all day to come out and play. Sitting ducks for a slayer that could just charge in and stake them." Was he trying to get her to go so he too could go out, kill some vampires, and hopefully impress the other slayer?

"Video games," he narrowed his eyes, "you play video games?" She didn't seem the type to him, and may not actually do it, but he was curious. He also liked that she was offering a genuinely helpful suggestion to deal with the boredom, even if it mean stealing more stuff for his crypt.

Faith Lehane has posed:
\She had suggested buying it. But really? Faith didn't care how he obtained one. "Not really. Haven't been able to afford one. Happens when you live hustle to hustle." Which is how she makes her money.

Buffy works. Gets a job. Even if it is working for her boyfriend which seemed to be wrong on so many levels. But she'd had other jobs.

Faith didn't really see the use of one. She got enough money to live and keep a roof over her head. Not having a job meant she could wander from place to place. No ties.

"Yeah, that's always a good tactic when taking on a big nest of vamps. Especially if they are stupid and have windows. Painted, boarded up. They aren't the best of ideas." She glanced around his crypt. "Obviously most vampires aren't as smart as you in the housing department."

Spike has posed:
Faith was a wanderer, and she had wandered into Spike's crypt, ostensibly to babysit him, but she seemed to be enjoying the company. Anytime you could relax in a nice comfy chair, while drinking a beer, it wasn't really work. And for all Spike knew, Faith was getting paid by Buffy or the Scoobies to do it. "Most vampires aren't as smart as me, period." Spike corrected her.

Spike's crypt had multiple entrances and exits, it had running electricity. There were some windows, but they were narrow, high up, stained glass, and even if someone broke through them, they still wouldn't drastically increase the risk to a vampire inside. He used hoodies and blankets to move about in the day. He had outfitted hi car to be able to drive during the day. And he was smart enough to cosy up to the slayers when he wasn't able to eat people. Spike was smarter than the average vampire.

Taking another swig of the beer, he decided to ask her, "So, what about you? Do you got a day job? Is there anyone special in your life?"

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith had picked up on the windows in relation to the way he had set up his crypt. Even if one was broken, no sunlight would hit the chair where he probably was usually sitting. Even the tv wouldn't be touched. If he was even up here. He might be down that ladder in the presumably SPF-1000-safespace one level down.

When he asked about work, she had to laugh. Giving a shake of her head. "Nah, I don't work. Remember that whole problem with authority? Some guy in a paper hat tries to tell me what to do, he'd be in for a world of hurt." She takes another swig of her drink, eyeing him as she did so. Her dark brown eyes were filled with mischief.

"Someone special? Yeah, just never know who he is until he shows up. Then he's special for a few hours and then I leave." She grins a little as she holds the bottle lazily in her hand, base resting on her thigh. "Why? You wanting to apply for the position? Thought you went for blonde, pouty, and whiny?"

Spike has posed:
"Yeah, I remember, but the way I see it, you're wearing new clothes, you smell like you had a shower this morning, probably got a roof over your head, don't look hungry, so, who pays for it all? Me, I got people to hook me up with free electricity, running water, this place is rent free, no taxes, and I salvage, or nick, anything else I need. But I'm a soulless vampire. But you, you're a slayer. You're supposed to be one of the good guys." Spike took another swig of his beer, trying to discern the look she gave him.

With a sly smile, "even that costs money. Or is there an app for that. Hot and cold running hunks? Oh, wait, there is. Forget I asked." There were plenty of apps for it. He didn't say anything about the position, or blondie.

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Sorry, think you read the wrong handbook. My job as a Slayer is to kill bad things. Trademark pending," she adds. "That means I just have to kill stuff. Which sometimes those things look like people and people don't know the difference. And sometimes we are breaking into private property that is owned by these monsters to do it. Or worse. So, technically? I'm a criminal, given a license to kill. Created and trained. No one said nothing about having to be some icon of morality. That's B's thing, not mine."

Faith swigs the beer again before continuing. "I get my money by hustling. Pool is a favorite way but there are other things I can run to get a few bucks. Hell, sometimes I'll take money out of a guy's wallet while he's sleeping before I head out the door. It's enough to keep a roof over my head, food in my stomach and clothes on my back. They might not be fancy but I don't need a big two-story house with designer clothes and a family that look up to me."

Spike has posed:
Spike had finished his beer. So he would get up, heading back to his 'kitchen' area, which wasn't really a kitchen, but he had a fridge, a few cupboards, and a microwave. It was more like what you'd find in a basement mancave, of course, this was in a mausoleum, so anything was impressive. "You ready for another, or... perhaps you want something stronger?" He grinned and raised an eyebrow as he took a bottle of vodka, a big one, out of the freezer part of his fridge. "Long as you're babysitting me tonight, might as well have a bit of fun."

He would return to his chair, without glasses. Somehow, he didn't think Faith would use one even if he had. What she said, how she lived, it didn't surprise him, hell, he'd lived a similar life at times, or unlife, whatever it was. And he had to hustle people when he wanted money, or steal. Usually scaring people gave him enough, but every once in a while he'd rob people who had broken into a place. After beating, or dusting them, as the case may be.

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Hell yeah, now you're talking," Faith said as she spied that bottle he pulled out. She glanced at her bottle which still was about two-thirds full. Putting it to her lips, she tilted it all the way up and didn't lower it until it was empty. A few swallows but uninterrupted. Then she set the bottle down on the floor next to her since, really, didn't want it in the way and she sure didn't want to get up. Although if they were going to be passing a bottle, she probably had to.

She got up and moved to the couch. His lack of glasses didn't bother her. She would've used one if offered but it wasn't necessary. She had Slayer constitution and wasn't concerned she might get cooties.

"Although if you are hoping to get me drunk so you can sneak out, you're out of luck. The whole Slayer package comes with it's fucking hard to get drunk. Talk about a draw back."

Spike has posed:
It was impressive watching her chug the rest of her beer. If Spike didn't have the hots for a certain other Slayer, Faith would be very tempting. Hell, she was still incredibly tempting, even with his feelings for her predecessor. "I thought you might like this," Spike said, returning with a party sized 4.5 L, 1.19 gal, bottle of Grey Goose vodka. If he was going to nick something, might as well nick one that was going to last. And the damn thing hadn't even been opened yet. "You want to do the honors," he handed it to her as she had moved to the couch.

He took a seat next to her on the couch. Leaning back, relaxing, and waiting for his turn. "Yeah, vampire constitution too. Of course, there's more where this came from." He had to be joking. He didn't have two of those monsters in the freezer section of his fridge. Then again, what else would he put in a freezer? He was a vampire.

Faith Lehane has posed:
"What? At ABC where you probably stole this one?" Faith asked with a laugh as she accepted the bottle, nodding her head in a mock polite motion. She cracked the seal on the top, spinning it off and setting it aside. They wouldn't be needing it for a while.

She put the oversized bottle to her lips and took a long draw off it before lowering it and licking her lips. "Now that's much better. Damn that stuff is smooth." She offered the bottle to him.

If anyone had told her in her younger days she's someday be sitting drinking vodka on a couch with a vampire? She'd have called them insane. Shows how God had a sense of humor. A messed up one but a sense of humor.

"So what happened to you anyway, that you're on house arrest until you heal up?"

Spike has posed:
Spike accepted the bottle, which had real heft to it, nothing he couldn't handle, but it was nice to get a good feel for how much it weighed, just before he took a big swig. It'd be interesting to feel how much it weighed come morning, or whenever they stopped. That is, if she could keep up. He didn't care one iota that she had put her lips to it. The booze probably wasn't good for him healing up. He would hand it back to her, not greedy.

"A couple of days ago, we were in the subway, fighting vampires, demons, a mixed group, dunno what they were after, dunno that they were even evil, now that I think about it. I was told to kill 'em, so why not. But, there were a lot of them, and Buffy was fighting two of them at once, as you slayer do, and a third was coming at her from behind, wouldn't gotten her neck, and boom, you're now senior slayer. 'Cept I stopped him." He patted his chest, the bandages clearly visible through the shirt, as they pressed against it, "nearly cost me my life. Took a bloody piece of rebar through the chest. A few inches, and poof, bye, bye, Spike."

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Wait, that doesn't sound right."

Faith accepted the bottle back as she ran what he said through her head. "I mean killing things, whatever. They were demons and vampires. They needed to be killed. You draw too many lines between good and evil and all that. Monster equals 'kill it now.'. Simple."

Which kind of confirmed his concerns about his safety around her from earlier in a way.

"Though I understand Angel is different. Got a soul and feels bad. Like seriously moping constantly for stuff he did like centuries ago or something? How emo do you have to be? Then there's you with the chip thing which makes you helpful and though you might be evil, you can't really /be/ evil."

She takes another swig off the vodka then passes it over to him again. Then she clarifies what was wrong. "Rebar is metal. I thought it had to be wood? Do you mean I could've been using swords and stuff instead for hearts?!"

Spike has posed:
"No?" Spike asked, waiting for her to explain why it didn't sound right. "... right," he would add, still not catching on when she talked about monster equals kill it now. He didn't disagree. But it was no great revelation. And then she went on about Angel, which of course set Spike on edge, just a little bit. Shaking his head, "he does get a good brood on now, doesn't he?" He asked rhetorically, "I'd say it was catholic guilt, except he once told me before he was sired, he was never really that religious. In fact, the way he tells it, he was far more likeable before."

"He loved to dance, life of the party, lots of women, problem with authority. I never quite figured that out. How does he go from being well, like me, to Angelus," and Spike's eyes and face sort of went big there, not vamp, but bugging his eyes out a little, making a face, "to dark and broody now that he's got his precious soul back. If you ask me, he didn't get his soul back, but some other poor sod."

When handed, he would take another swig of the vodka, before passing it back to her. "Well, let me put it this way. I don't exactly fancy any sharp, pointy object near my heart, no matter what it's made of."

Faith Lehane has posed:
"Valid point." Then Faith chuckles. "No pun intended." Though it was funny. Another swig of the vodka, the lovely slow burn as it went down. Far better than a beer. And the speed they were drinking, maybe, just maybe, she might get a tiny buzz if she was lucky.

Which meant she wouldn't cause she was never that lucky.

"I mean after brooding for a century, I'd think he'd get over it. Try smiling more. Buy something not black to wear." She shook her head then grinned over at him. "Sounds like him as Angelus was like his original personality without the rules of society weighing him down. Do you think it is possible he got the wrong soul? He's been more mellow since he died. Again."

Spike has posed:
Spike was going drink for drink with her, and he had suggested that it had friends. So, if she wanted a buzz, she was probably going to get it. "You know, gypsies ever curse me with a soul or anything like that, I bet I don't spend six months brooding." Spike mused thoughtfully, before she mentioned the black, "like red?" Spike seemed to own black items of clothing, red, blue, and a few darker earth tones. If he wore anything bright and cheerful, it was because somehow he was forced to borrow clothes from Xander. "Don't know. I only have to go on what Angel, Angelus, whatever, and Darla had to say about it. Long before my time. "Though, you know what would really sort him. Getting laid. By... someone other than Buffy, 'cause we don't need him going all psycho on us again." Then looking at her, he grinned, and she became a telepath. "I don't suppose you'd consider doing one for the team?"

Faith Lehane has posed:
That causes her to laugh. Outright. A bright happy sound as Faith just lost it. She had the feeling what he was going to ask, when she saw that grin after he suggested Angel just needed to get laid. "As tempting as that might be, I think that's a bad idea. And for me to think it's bad, that's one for the record books."

She took her turn at the bottle again and realized they were already halfway through it. "Don't get me wrong. He's hot as hell. Like seriously wouldn't mind digging my nails in his back. But he's way too much of a downer for me. I'd have to like duct tape his mouth." She paused, considering that a moment. Letting the visual run through her mind. Then shook her head. "Nah. There's also the thing of B. I mean I get she claims she's moved on. Is with that other vampire guy."

She pauses again. "What the fuck is up with her and vampires anyway?" It was rhetorical as she moved on immediately, not really expecting an answer. "So then it would be all Slayer-versus-Slayer and so much drama. I'll just let him mope."

Spike has posed:
It was nice to hear her laugh. It was genuine. She had a nice laugh. Spike drank it in and enjoyed the well earned amusement. "I'll get right on with Guinness," meaning the record books, not the beer. He was still enjoying the vodka that they were sharing. And then she gets a laugh from Spike, not quite as profound as hers, but a sincere laugh at the thought of her duct taping Angel's mouth before doing him.

In fact, as she held the thought, only to say nah, that illicited an even bigger laugh, as she was seriously considering it. Right up until she mentioned Thomas, and his mood seem to shift, a bit of a sore spot. He took another swig, moving on.

"Well, as you know, because you're worldly, vampires make the best lovers." He said that as if it were true, well known, and beyond contestation. He didn't even put any real emphasis on it, or a pause. It was matter of fact, "stamina for days, strength, and a certain animal magnetism. Even Angel has a bit of that... buried deep down somewhere. I'm sure he has some charisma, somewhere. But... Buffy. You know, Thomas'... feeding, I guess you'd call it, is turning her hair grey. He's feeding on her, and somehow, she's okay with this." He shook his head, taking another swig. Was he hogging it now?

Faith Lehane has posed:
At his slight shift in mood, Faith picked up on it. After all, he was still crushing on Buffy. Course he wouldn't want to hear about her new man. But he continued on, rallying and joking about vampires being the best lovers.

Wait. He wasn't joking. He actually believed that. She had to grin a little and shake her head. "They're also modest, right?" she teased with another grin.

But then he got serious after Angel got a bit more abuse. And Faith's smile was gone.

"I can't help her. Some people are just stupid," Faith says flatly. It's not very nice of her but she wasn't one to mince words. "Even if she is in love with him, which I have no idea if she is or he's just fun for her to hang out with, that's kind of crossing a line. I mean instead of a lover she's become take-out." She shrugs and eyes the bottle, waiting for him to pass it over but getting he needed some extra there at the situation. And hell, he was in love with Buffy. Or at least thought he was. So he probably needed a lot more alcohol to deal with that than Faith would.

"It's her relationship and her choice. Much as we might not like it or find it questionable, it's not for us to interfere. Unless he pushes it too far. Then I'll give dibs to kill him. After all, chip shouldn't interfere since he's a monster, right?"

Spike has posed:
"They might be, but I'm not." Spike offered in reply, his smile still there, though it wasn't for long. Heavy drinking and serious conversations were never a great mix, but that seemed to be where they were heading. He would pass the bottle, noting that he had hogged it for a while. It was nice of her to let him have it, with the topic at hand. "I don't even know what he is. Some say he's a vampire, but he goes out in the day. I hear he doesn't eat blood, but instead, takes energy. Sounds more like a succubus," Spike may have deliberately mixed up succubus with incubus there. "I mean, I could deal with it if she were dating someone decent, someone who deserved her, but he takes from her. He hurts her. She's going grey, and she's only what, twenty-two years old? Longer than most slayers ever get, you too for that matter." And then, as he eyed her drinking, "are you even legal," he asked, his smile back, though perhaps it was an act this time.

Faith Lehane has posed:
Faith didn't correct him. Succubus, incubus. It was all the same really. Just because the parts were different didn't change what they were.

She took her swig quickly and passed the bottle back over, figuring he needed it more since they were in 'serious' territory. Not an area she usually found herself in and she wasn't sure she liked it. It was about a situation they couldn't fix. That was annoying. "I honestly have no idea about him. I met him once?" She thinks it was only once. "So I can't really judge his character. I know he's supposedly a vampire. Wonder if a stake to the heart would kill him if he's a different kind? Or would I have to go for decapitation." Just work chat, which is kind of grim, but if anyone might be okay with that sort of small-talk, it'd probably be Spike.

His question had her laughing again, softly. "I think you've already contributed to my delinquency if I was. So too late to worry now."

Spike has posed:
Spike took another swig; they were getting dangerously close to polishing it off, somehow. Vampire and slayer constitutions were something to behold. He handed it back, and leaned against the back of the couch, just relaxing, resting, and enjoying the buzz that was coming on. "Problem is, Buffy would kill you if you did. The girl's gotta come to her senses on her own time. Soon as she figures out that she's dating a soulless monster, one that hasn't been cursed with a soul, or has a chip in his head, who is using her, feeding on her, then maybe. But until then, he's off limits..." Spike then looked over to her, "between you, me, and the bottle, are you really this tough, or is just a bit, an act?"

Faith Lehane has posed:
She sighed a little at the fact they couldn't kill the succubus. Not that she planned to. It had just been a little mental fantasy she'd been enjoying. Because as much as she might not really like Buffy sometimes, she didn't want her to get eaten. Course, she didn't know enough about Thomas to really know. She just knew vampire/energy/somethingsomething. Maybe she needed to dig a little more.

Then Spike asked that question.

AH-OOGAH! AH-OOGAH!

The warning alarms went off in her head, like those claxons in old movies. No one needed to be thinking she wasn't as tough as she portrayed herself. There in lay vulnerability!

"I am what you see. The toughest bitch you ever met," she said as she gave him a grin that was a tad wild, a bit feral.

Spike has posed:
After Spike's latest swig, and he handed it back to her, she could, amazingly, probably finish it off. If she wanted to. Of course, the way she could chug alcohol, she probably could have finished t several swigs ago. If she had wanted to. He watched her after that question, body language, a twitch her, a facial movement there, deep inhalation of breath, watching for any signs. And when he saw what he thought he had seen, he simply smiled, "right." But did he believe her, or was he just protecting her secret?

Faith Lehane has posed:
There had been an instant. A fraction of a moment of a second. Her face had shown the tiniest bit of doubt in the way she cut her eyes slightly to the side as she had heard the question. Before that mask had slammed back into place and it was the same Faith everyone knew and loved. Or hated. Really it was more the latter.

And she was okay with that.

She took the bottle and tilted it up. Technically he was a drink ahead of her so she had the right. Long draws and swallows as the level of liquid in the bottle going down with each. Then she finished it off and pulled it away from her mouth, letting out a long breath as though it was the best thing she'd ever had. And now? Finally? After a half gallon of pretty pure alcohol in a very short time period? She had a teeny tiny hint of a buzz.

She looked at the bottle, brow knitting together. "Well damn. I expected that to last longer." Suddenly she was moving, standing up an setting the big empty bottle next to her earlier little empty beer bottle. "C'mon. We're going out. We need more to drink and I am already tired of being cooped up in here."

Spike has posed:
Spike remained seated for a moment as she stood up. He looked her over, trying to figure out what her intentions were. Was she going to let him out of jail and head back out into the night to kill some vampires for herself? Oh, seems she was still babysitting him, but at least he was getting some exercise out of it. Rising to his feet, he would have ordinarily put his coat on, but it needed to be mended. So he went without. He began walking towards the door to his crypt, curious if she would grab her jacket, or follow after him as is.

"Sounds like a plan," he wasn't going to object at being let out of his pen. He was having fun with her, but any prison, no matter how nice the company, was still a prison. "Bronze?" He asked, figuring she meant in public, "or liquor store," he asked, having a similar idea to her. He decided not to bother letting her know he had another one of those in hi freezer. Plus, the might run into some vampires or demons on the way, and he could use a spot of violence. He liked to get physical.