Spike felt like he was being split in two. He knew deep inside of himself that he did not want to hurt Faith. But his baser self, the one that had been pressed down within him for so long, had finally been provoked enough to gain a foothold and the demon was not going to give it up without a fight.

His body was still as the soul and demon inside him warred for control.

Spike's yellow eyes followed Faith as she circled around him. The demon growled and gnashed his teeth.

Oh, look at ‘er, it whirred. Such a pretty thing, bet she's a right tasty morsel. Come on, what d'ya say we show this bitch who the Big bad is around here?

Spike's fists balled at his sides, his soul keeping him locked in place.

How long ‘as it been, how long since we last tasted the blood of a Slayer? Too bloody long if you ask me. Remember how sweet it tastes ...

A moan slipped from Spike's lips, his eyes closed as the memory of drinking the two Slayers he killed washed over him.

Faith, taking advantage of Spike's distraction, lunged forward. His eyes snapped open and grabbed hold of the fist coming his way. Quickly, he twisted her arm behind her back and jerked her against him.

Spike brushed the hair away from Faith's neck and buried his nose in the crook of it, breathing in the Slayer's essence.

Ooh, do you smell that? the demon moaned. Is there anything more intoxicating? Imagine the taste.

Spike's tongue slid out and licked Faith's neck. He could hear the wild beating of her heart and the blood rushing through her veins; It was like music, an old familiar tune. His fangs grazed against Faith's delicate flesh but not hard enough to break the skin.

That's it, the demon drawled, go on then, take her. You know it's what you want.

Suddenly, the image of the other Slayers passed through Spike's mind, their limp lifeless bodies lying on the ground. It was like a bucket of ice water poured over him, dousing his bloodlust.

"No!" Spike cried out, pushing Faith away from him. He put his hands to his head and curled his fingers in his hair. He closed his eyes and shook his head back and forth. "I can't do it. I won't do it. That's not what I want. That's not who I am anymore. I'm not a killer! You can't make me!"

Faith took a big step back from Spike, her face twisted in confusion. What the...? Is this dude for real? She wasn't sure. She remembered her Watcher remarking something about the Hellmouth before and how it had strong effects on the forces of darkness.

Yeah, well, I guess you could call makin' ‘em bat shit crazy an effect.

"Yo, Sybil!" Faith barked. "You mind cuttin' the crap? ‘Cause this is startin' to cut into valuable party time. I'd like to finish this before the bar closes, you know what I mean?"

The voice startled Spike out of his internal struggle. He'd been so consumed with the fight going on inside of him, he'd nearly forgot about the one he was currently engaged in with the new Slayer.

Spike opened his eyes and slowly put his hands down from his head and held them up entreatingly to Faith. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, still out of sorts. "I didn't mean ...I didn't mean to do what I did."

Faith laughed. "You didn't mean what, to let me go?"

Spike ground his teeth. "No! I didn't mean to try to-" he balled his fists. "I don't want to hurt you," he tried again, his voice calmer now. "I made a mistake. I couldn't control myself."

"Well," Faith remarked, "what a coincidence, it just so happens I have a great way of dealing with out of control animals," she brandished her stake again and held it up for him to see, "by putting them down."

~*~*~*~

Buffy and Willow were putting on their jackets when Xander finally returned with drinks in hand.

"Hey, guys what's going on?" he asked. "You're not bailing on me after I just spent nearly an hour waiting in line to bring you all some whistle wetting goodness, are you?"

"We're not leaving." Willow assured. "Spike said he was going out for a smoke and we're just going to make sure that he's all right."

"Why wouldn't he be all right?" Xander asked. "If he's just smoking what could there be to worry about? Unless you think, he might've accidentally set himself on fire." He snickered.

Willow responded by giving him a withering look; she did not appreciate his humour. Xander had promised her that he was going to try and give the vampire a chance. But so far she saw nothing that suggested that he was going to stick to his word.

Xander sighed at Willow's expression with genuine contrition. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." He set the drinks down on a nearby table. "All right, let's go and make sure everything's okay with Deadboy Jr."

Willow tilted her head and frowned, but she didn't make any attempt to reprimand him. Rolling her eyes, she sighed, figuring that this was the best effort she could hope from him for now.

Buffy had barely registered the exchange between her friends. She had been too preoccupied with her anxiousness to get outside; she couldn't shake this gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was wrong.

"Ugh! Guys can we just go now, please?" the Slayer asked testily.

"Sure, Buffy," Willow said sheepishly.

"Yeah, okay,"a cowed Xander muttered.

"Thank you." Buffy blew out a breath and whipped around.

"Hey guys!" said a perky voice behind them, stalling Buffy's progress to the door yet again. "Where're you going?"

They all turned to see Cordelia beaming that thousand watt smile of hers.

Buffy groaned and reminded herself that she wasn't allowed to slay humans.

Seeing the look in her friend's eye, Willow quickly stepped in saying, "We're just going to step outside real quick to check on Spike. We'll be right back."

They made to turn away again.

"Well, hey just hold on a sec and let me grab my jacket," Cordelia chimed. "I could use some air, the humidity in here is starting to make my hair go flat."

Well, you won't have to worry about that soon, Buffy thought darkly, 'cause if you don't quit stalling me I'm going to rip it out!

"Hey!" Xander exclaimed, nervously seeing Buffy's fist curling. "No need for you to go to the trouble of getting your jacket, you can have mine." He slipped of his jacket and draped it over his girlfriend's shoulders.

"Great!" Buffy bit. "Now that Cordelia isn't going to freeze to death in the frigid sixty-seven degree temperature, can we please get going?"

The three were too shocked --and scared-- to speak, so they just bobbed their heads at her.

"Great." She sighed. "Let's-- "

"Hey, you guys leaving?" Oz asked as he joined the tableaux.

"Ugh, you gotta be kidding me!" Buffy exclaimed. "Forget it, I'm just going by myself. I don't care what the hell Spike wants." With that she spun around and stomped away.

Oz looked confused and wondered, "Uh . . . was it something I said?"

~*~*~*~

Faith burst forth, leveraging one foot on a crate and leaping off in a flying roundhouse kick that landed with a crack across Spike's cheek, the vampire went reeling and dropped on all fours.

"You're a real stake tease you know that?" Faith taunted the felled vamp. "You put on that vamp face of yours, getta a girl all hot and bothered thinking she's gonna get some action, then...BAM!" She kicked Spike in the side for extra emphasis. "You put on the brakes. You know it's turnin' hot and cold like that what leads to people getting bad reputations."

Spike let out a bitter chuckle and spit out the blood that had pooled in his mouth. He pushed himself up on his knees and swiped at the corner of his mouth with his thumb, cleaning off the dribble of spittle and blood. "No worries there, love," he panted. "There's nothin' you could say that would do any damage to my name," his mouth curved up in disdain, "I'm already infamous."

"Oh yeah?" Faith challenged. "Well how's about getting off your ass and showing me some of that infamy, then?"

"Well," Spike gritted, "as I have tried to tell you, I'm different. I don't hurt people, don't kill any more," he added the last word quietly but Faith heard it loud and clear before she latched on to it.

"Anymore," she repeated, crossing her arms over her chest. "But you have hurt people, killed them, before."

Spike clenched his eyes shut and nodded.

"And just what is it that made you stop doin' that then, huh? ‘Cause from what I've been told a vamp don't just change his tune. A vampire is a killing machine that lives for nothing more than to cause pain."

Spike gritted his teeth and took in some air through his nostrils. He steeled himself and looked up at Faith. "That's exactly what they are," he affirmed. "Exactly what I used to be, before I got cursed."

Faith raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching up ever so slightly. "Cursed?" she echoed dubiously. "What kind of curse?"

Spike sighed wearily and started to get to his feet, Faith's body stiffened defensively when he moved. Spike put up his hands. "Is it all right if I stand?"

Faith gave him a terse nod but her body remained alert. Spike nodded in return, keeping his hands raised as he slowly rose to his feet.

"Okay," he ventured. "The curse - it's got a long backstory and I'm assumin' you ain't the type to want all the boring details." Faith let out an affirming huff. "Right then," Spike went on. "Well, the short of it is, it's an old Gypsy's curse that gives a vampire a soul, a conscience, so they regret all the bad things they've done."

Spike sucked in his cheeks and paused for a second. "So, that's what happened to me. I got cursed with a soul an' now I'm all rife with atonement over the horrible things I've done in the past," his voice lowered in shame as he added, "it's hard enough trying to live with what I've done, there's no way I would ever do anything to harm someone again."

"Oh yeah?" Faith challenged "You sure seemed ready to sink your teeth into me just a few minutes ago," she reminded him.

Spike's fists balled. "That was a mistake," he asserted, his voice low and fierce, "a fluke. It shouldn't ‘ave happened. It won't happen again."

Faith let out a sarcastic laugh. "And how the hell can you be so sure of that? I mean you say now it shouldn't have happened. You can't know you that won't lose control again."

Spike ground his teeth as doubt began to eat at him.

"And what if next time your Jiminy Cricket ain't able to rein you in and you end up killing some poor girl," Faith needled, "what then? I don't think I would be able to live with myself if I let you live and something like that happens. Put yourself in my shoes, what would you do if you were me?"

I'd put a stake right through my chest, Spike thought dreadfully. Instead, he shook his head and said, "No, it won't happen, I won't hurt anyone." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Faith. It wouldn't happen again, would it? Angel never hurt anyone when he had a soul, did he? Neither will I then, no matter what this bint thinks.

"Well," Faith said, slowly beginning to meander towards Spike, "you might be willing to take that risk, but I can't. You see I got this whole sacred duty thing, being a Slayer. You're just another vamp to me. It's my job to kill you. Doesn't even make a difference to me if you've been touched by freakin' angel,"

Spike couldn't help but snort at Faith's unintentional joke. "Well, as a matter of fact..." he muttered.

"Look," Faith snapped. "This isn't anything personal, but like I said, I got a job to do. But I'll do you favour and make quick, okay?" With that, she again rushed him.

Damn it, Spike seethed. He had done his best to try and talk himself out of this situation, his silver tongue had almost always served him well in the past. But, it was less effective with Slayers; there was only one language they understood. Spike didn't want to resort to getting physical, but he didn't really have any other choice unless he just let Faith kill him. A few weeks ago, that option wouldn't have bothered him so much. He might have welcomed it even. But after everything that Buffy had done for him to help pull him out of that dark place he'd been in straight after his ensoulment, he couldn't just give up without a fight.

His resolve in place, Spike grabbed hold of Faith's wrist, the stake in her hand just a hair's breadth from piercing his chest. "I'd prefer to take my time, if you don't mind," he countered, his voice strained as he tightened his grip on her wrist until her hand opened and the stake fell to the ground.

Faith looked down at her lost weapon, then back up to Spike's face, anger and a twinge of surprise in her eyes. Spike, pulling out one of his old favorite moves, reared his head back then threw it forward, butting his forehead into Faith's face.

She staggered back from Spike. Hunched over, Faith spit blood out of her mouth. Spike balked at the sight of it, a surge of desire went through him, which he quickly stifled.

Faith looked up at him, her brown eyes seething through the curtain her curly dark hair had created over her face, her bleeding top lip curled up in disdain. "I knew all that talk about you being cursed with a soul was a load of crap," she fumed.

She straightened herself. "Okay, forget quick and easy. Slow and painful it is then." Faith charged Spike and slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. Quickly, she spun around to retrieve her stake. As she brought her hand down toward him, Spike's eyes widened and he rolled out of the stake's path and into a crouch. Faith whirled on him and stalked towards him once more.

Spike kicked out his leg and swiped Faith's feet out from under her. The Slayer was airborne for a moment before she crashed down hard on the pavement, her head bouncing off of it. Spike saw his opportunity and took it, pouncing on Faith's prone form and pinning her down, his hand on her throat.

"Damn," Faith croaked, smiling through a grimace of pain. "So much for not hurting me, huh?"

Spike's jaw clenched. He didn't like this. He hadn't wanted to hurt her. But, she hadn't left him a choice. Steeling himself, Spike increased the pressure of his hold on her neck, until he heard the slightest crack. He looked down at the Slayer, his eyes cold and solemn, so was his voice as he spoke. "I could kill you right now."

Faith looked back up at him, her eyes full of defiance even as she knew her life was literally in Spike's hands right now. He had seen that look before, the first time in China all those years ago. It was a look of pure strength. A look that said, even though you may kill me, you'll never beat me. The look of a Slayer. Others he killed always begged for mercy, pleaded not to be killed. But a Slayer never gave up, not even at the end and it was that fire in their eyes that had fueled Spike's lust for the hunt of them; it was why he became the Slayer of Slayers.

Faith raised her eyebrows ever so slightly as if asking, what the hell are you waiting for?

"But," Spike went on, "I won't." Surprise flashed in Faith's eyes as Spike's grip eased. "I just want you to remember, I had you. Keep that in mind before you go grabbin' that stake of yours, huh? I could have easily done you in, but because I'm in control, I didn't." With that, Spike lifted back off of Faith and sat back against the dumpster, taking out his cigarettes.

Faith propped herself up on one elbow, her other hand rubbing her sore neck, as she looked dazedly at the vampire. "Hey," she tried to shout, but it came out as a croak, "so that's it, you're just gonna give up?"

Spike lit his cigarette, then shrugged. He blew out a plume of smoke. "I've done all I can," he told her. "If I haven't convinced you I don't want to kill you by now, nothing will. So, it's up to you, you can go ahead and dust me if you want. But, could you at least allow a fella one last fag first?"

Faith narrowed her eyes, not knowing what to think. For all she knew, this guy could still be using some kind of ploy. She almost wished he were. If he really was agood vampire, he went against everything her Watcher had drilled into her head. She was shaken, and, quite frankly, in need of a nicotine fix herself, so she gave him a small nod and pushed herself up. "Just as long as you let me have one, too."

Spike chuffed and tossed the pack to her. Faith popped one into her mouth and dragged her sore body over to the dumpster and sat, with a good distance between them, next to Spike.

Spike tossed his lighter toward her, the metal clinking as it hit the pavement. Faith picked it up wordlessly and flicked it open, lighting her cigarette, before sliding the lighter back to Spike. He snatched it up and put it back in his pocket.

The pair smoked in silence for a moment, Faith keeping a wary eye on the vampire through the rivulets of smoke billowing between them. "So," she said eventually, licking her lips, "what's your name anyway, Soulman?"

Spike chuckled, turning his head to look at Faith with a wry smile. He was just about to open his mouth and respond when a shrill voice beat him to the punch.

"Spike!"

Spike's tongue curled behind his teeth at the voice. He clucked his tongue and said to Faith, amusement coating his words, "That'd be me." Spike pushed himself painfully to his feet.

Faith stood too, her mouth twitching up as she looked at the tiny blonde storming their way.

"Oh my god!" Buffy fretted as she came closer to Spike and saw how banged up he was. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I'm all right, pet," Spike assured. "Though I guess I could ‘ave used an escort after all," he added with a sardonic smile.

Buffy's chest clenched as she looked at him, face cut and bleeding. She had to fight the urge to kiss his wounds. Instead, she reached up and gently brushed a small patch of his cheek that wasn't visibly hurt.

Spike fought not to wince as Buffy's hand touched his face, where, undoubtedly, in a few hours a big, purple bruise would form. He wrapped his hand around hers and slowly brought it down. He gave her a small smile and again assured her, "I'm alright, Buffy. Really."

"Buffy?" Faith echoed, she tilted her head to the side, regarding the other woman with even more interest. "As in the Slayer?"

Buffy whirled around. She was angered for having been ripped out of the moment she was sharing with Spike and for being brought back to reality. "Yeah, that's me," she confirmed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking the stranger over. To Buffy's keen eye, she could see how the injuries the woman bore corresponded with the ones Spike had. Her blood boiled knowing that this woman was the cause of Spike's battered state. She took a menacing step toward the interloper. "And just who the hell are you?"

Spike's nostrils flared as Buffy's scent changed, the way it did when she was readying for a fight. It was a heady scent, which instinctively excited Spike. But, keeping himself in check, he shook off the effect and lurched forward, stepping in between the two women. He wasn't afraid for Buffy's safety if a fight broke out - he had every confidence she'd prove the victor - nor was he really all that worried about Faith being hurt. He was worried how it might upset Buffy when she realized she had pummeled one of her own.

"Buffy," he broke in; the Slayer in question looked at him sharply, surprised by his actions. "This is Faith..." he winced inwardly at what he was about to say, he didn't suppose it was something Buffy would want to hear. "She's the new Slayer in town."

TBC...