He ran through the night, his coat billowing out behind him, dark leather wings proclaiming to all that death was on the hunt. He easily vaulted over head stones, landing with nary a sound and speeding off once more. The swiftness of his moves and the quickness of his steps belied the care with which he had all his senses acutely attuned. Searching for that elusive scent and tingle which would tell him his chosen prey was near.

He felt her and came to a sudden halt, sliding into the protective shadows thrown by the rugged stone of a nearby crypt. He waited silently as she approached. He could tell she was alone and knew this would be his best chance. Unlike most slayers, this one was normally surrounded by companions. He thought it odd that a creature which delivered death to so many of his kind should surround herself with so much life. He peered around the corner of his hiding place, searching with his eyes until he spotted the lone figure heading in his direction.

His eyes narrowed. She seemed taller and had put on some weight. It gave her previously almost boyish figure some lovely curves. He continued to watch, enjoying this moment of time to observe her while she was still unaware of his presence. She was bound to sense him soon, but for now, he would savour these all too brief moments. She was striking. The casual air she portrayed while keeping alert, hunting in her own way. She stopped and looked in his direction.

He smiled and stepped out of the shadows. "Hello, cutie."

The slayer stepped forward into the puddle of moonlight which managed to filter through the branches overhead, her dark hair gleaming. Her ruby red lips turned up in a smile. "Hello, handsome."

Spike nearly dropped the the lighter in his hand. "Feel like a slayer." Spike lightly sniffed the air. The delicate scent of roses mixed with the lighter scent of baby powder, which Spike always associated with a slayer, filled his senses. The mix was beguiling. Much nicer than the plasticky, vanilla scent the other slayer seemed to prefer. "Smell like a slayer, too. But you're not Buffy," he grumbled, before lighting his cigarette and smoothly returning the heavy lighter to his pocket.

The dark haired slayer sucked in a breath and looked down at herself. When she looked back up her eyes were twinkling and she was smiling again. "Nope. You got me there."

"Is she dead then?"

"Who?"

"The other one." Spike waved the hand holding his cigarette around vaguely in the air between them. "Buffy. Is she dead?"

The girl in front him actually laughed. "No. If only."

This was getting him nowhere but for some reason he wasn't leaving. "So who are you and why do you want Buffy dead?"

"Ya know, for a vamp, you're awfully nosy."

Spike's arm whipped out, his fingers grasping around the smooth skin of her neck. He turned them both and smashed her back into the rough stone of the wall. "I was being all nice like but you're really getting on my last nerve."

Both her hands were wrapped around his forearm but she wasn't struggling. She appeared to be studying him. He leaned in close, his lips just brushing the throbbing of the pulse in her neck. "You gonna tell me who you are? I'd like to know who's dinner," he whispered, slackening his hold the slightest bit.

"Behind you!"

Spike dropped the slayer and spun, surprising the three Gravlek demons who were sneaking up behind him. "Do you mind? We're trying to have a conversation here." He struck out with his leg, his boot soundly connecting with a bony knee. He smiled at the satisfying crunch. He threw his head back and laughed. "Bring it on!"

As he threw himself into the dance, he noticed the slayer had joined the fight as well. He would come close, his fists hitting their targets with punishing accuracy before skipping back out of reach once more. The demons were large but slow and clumsy. It was a simple matter to tire them out and then strike. The fight was over far too quickly for his liking but then he noticed the slayer, her dark hair flying out behind her as she twisted with her foot raised high. Her black boot caught the demon solidly on the jaw and he dropped like a stone. She was on him immediately, showing no mercy.

The demons dispatched, they faced each other once more.

He stepped closer and slid a hand into the waves of her hair. It reminded him of Dru's, long and dark. His fingers drifted gently over the back of her neck, surprising himself at his own tenderness. He leaned in close once more, inhaling the delectable aroma of roses and baby powder. Large brown eyes filled with fire studied him. She was enigma this slayer. Sexy and deadly. His hands shook slightly. She slipped a hand around his neck and pulled him even closer. Hot, hungry lips covered his own with a surprising fierceness. He gentled and slowed the kiss, wanting to savour her taste, her heat.

A persistent, nagging tingling brought him back to himself and he pulled reluctantly away.

The slayer glanced over her shoulder. "She's coming."

Spike nodded, fingers drifted absently through the silken strands of her hair. "Gonna tell me your name before she gets here?"

"Faith."

"Spike."

"Will I...will I see you again?"

He could feel her hands twisting together against the nape of his neck and was surprised by her nervousness. He had a strange desire to stay and soothe her worries but knew he had to go. He slipped reluctantly from her loose hold. She let him walk away, watching quietly. He could feel the weight of her gaze on his back. He stopped and turned. "Count on it."

~ Mòran taing ~