A/N: So I have a feeling that you're al going to hate me after reading this chapter. It'll get tbetter I promise... I think. I had a hard time with this chapter cuz I kept wanting to cut at specific points but then it'd be too short and if I kept it all together then we'd have a whole other mini series. So this is the middle ground. I'm hoping within the next two chapters I can move the plot along a little bit and get Faye and Spike moving towards eachother at least a little, they are very stubborn as you know. Cross your fingers for me.

Disclaimer: Still don't own it.

There is nothing quite like the sense of loneliness brought about by leaving a hospital by yourself. Spike had done that a lot throughout his lifetime. It was one of the reasons he'd used the street doc so often to patch him up. That and money. Convenience too, he supposed. Yeah, those were all pretty big factors.

His mind was still numb, still stuck on replay. He remembered little things; how Faye's head felt in his hands. Faye falling, convulsing. His hands touching skin too hot, too clammy. The feel of his finger slipping into a cut under Faye's jaw as he held her head still.

He was going to be sick.

His feet carried him to Faye's. Ed found him in the dark, sitting on Faye's couch; a half-empty bottle of bourbon on the coffee table in front of him.

"Hey, there," she said.

"Hey, yourself." He reached for the bottle and took a swig. "Lost you earlier."

Ed crossed the room to sit on the table in front of him. A cigarette appeared miraculously out of nowhere and she watched Spike pat himself down, before she knelt between his legs and lit it for him.

"It's ok, you know," she said.

"What is." It was clear in his tone that he was in no mood to play guessing games.

"How you're feeling now."

Spike leaned in closed to her face; she didn't have to inhale to smell the mix of liquor and tobacco on his breath. "Tell me, Ed, how am I feeling now?" His eyes looked black whether from the lack of lighting in the room or the emotions rolling within. He had a dangerous look about him, one Ed had never seen.

He kissed her, not softly or sweetly. All the anger and frustration he felt included in the kiss. And because it was Spike she let him. Some tiny part of her wanted to know what it would be like. All the men she'd been with up to now, she'd measure up to this man. Not that there'd been many, but all of them had been judged against him. He'd never lied to her even when he should have. He had been a better father than her own and a better friend. So she owed it to him, to offer some measure of comfort the one time he asked for it however misguided it was.

"Spike, you need to stop." Her voice was low, barely a whisper. Foreign to his ears and hers. The Ed of the past was loud, raucous, and blissfully unaware, the Ed in his lap was her polar opposite.

"Tell me why."

"Because I'm not her."

The remark hit home. Hard. He hadn't realized how badly he'd missed Faye, how worried was; that he'd even been worried, until Ed pointed out to him Faye wasn't there… Until Ed hadn't made him realized how much he wanted her to be there, even if it was just to call him an ass and tell him to get out. Was this what it felt like? What Faye had felt all those times? Worrying over Julia had been different. If he were honest, truly honest; worry was never part of the 'Julia' equation. There was anger, desire, confusion, betrayal, hatred, but never worry. More than anything he'd wanted answers to questions he'd never had a chance to ask. He'd wanted to know why. Julia had always been one of the strongest women he knew; it was part of what was so alluring about her. Her self-assuredness and confidence, the lack of fear when others would have turned tail and run a long time ago. So why, why when faced with the choice of him or Vicious did she turn into this cowering, fearful archetype of a battered woman?

Ed shifted on his lap. A subtle show the discomfort she felt, but enough to pull him back to the situation at hand. He pulled his hands back giving her space that she'd so subtly asked for. But instead of fleeing like he thought she would, she leaned forward to rest her head on his chest.

"Is this going to make things weird now? You're not going to freak out or something every time we see each other, are you?

Undoubtedly. "You want an honest answer?"

"Not particularly, not today."

He rested a hand on top of her head, rubbing it softly. "No, Ed, this won't make things weird."

He hesitated over the next words, how to tell her that this couldn't happen again. This door was going to remain shut, firmly.

"Good, 'cause you're cute and all but you're kinda old. And honestly I don't think you could keep my attention for long. We'd be doomed for failure from the start." She softened the blow to his ego with a kiss to his cheek, and the words themselves while said in jest to lighten the mood were said softly and with a sorrow that could be felt hiding just under the surface. He knew she'd said the words as much for him as she had for herself.

"Can I be the cool uncle, then?" Spike said with a smirk that he didn't quite feel.

"No, I'd rather keep you as what you've always been to me."

"Really and what is that?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Alright. Why, then?"

"Because sometimes blood isn't thicker than water."

Spike woke up the next morning feeling worse than when he'd gone to bed; which was a huge feat given the emotional rollercoaster of the previous day. Flexing those sets muscles had completely worn him out and he was pretty sure that he was still not 100%. Secretly he wondered if it had something to do with Faye's couch, he'd yet to have a good night's sleep on it yet, which was strange 'cause he'd never met a couch he couldn't happily lay his head on.

He opened his eyes in an attempt to get a better bearing. The empty bourbon bottle teetered dangerously on the edge of the coffee table. His tie wasn't too far from it along with his Jericho, and crumpled, empty pack of cigarettes. Ed's Doc Martins lay a little ways from his own pile along with what looked like a rubber ducky, goggles, and a couple of vials that looked suspiciously like the ones syringes went into.

Spike wondered whether or not it was a good thing he saw no syringes. The blanket on top of him shifted, revealing bright red-orange hair.

"Ed get up."

"Not yet, Mr. Ducky's gotta find the bishop that guards the fountain or else he'll be swimming in orange glaze for din-din," Ed mumbled.

He began to shake her before rethinking it, hoping to avoid one of those uncomfortable moments he'd promised her they wouldn't have. Instead he'd wriggled out from underneath her landing ungracefully on the floor. This was good, at least he could still remember promises he'd made the night before. He hadn't drank that much.

He wandered into the bathroom to take a piss and shower, maybe shave. It would be a pleasure to use Faye's shaver and put it back for her to use, none-the-wiser. Just the sort of thing he needed to pick his spirits up.

The Ed-shaped pile was missing from the couch when he came out of the bathroom, and the smell of coffee wafted from the kitchen. A steaming mug lay waiting on the coffee table.

"They tortured her." It was as if he set off a touchswitch the moment he sat down. Ed materialized out of her room, bundled in the blanket. Her voice was sad and little.

"That's where I was yesterday. I was hacking her medical file. Severe dehydration, internal body temp of 40.4ºC, I think they had to put her in an ice bath or something to cool her down. They made me leave. From what I could tell, they're really interested in that wound that runs from her jaw-"

"You ever seen where it ends?"

"No. She—I dunno it's almost like she's protective of it. I dunno, she's never said anything about it."

"But she's working as a stripper…" The sarcasm leaked out more than he intended it to.

"What's your point, Spike?"

"My point is that every inch of her skin is flaunted around on a nightly basis but you're telling me no one has ever gotten a good look or knows anything about that scar?"

" File says they found nanobots in her blood-"

"Ed."

"Look, no one here wants to know anything. As far as they're concerned it's none of their business. Why do you think she's here? She wants to be anonymous. You saw it yourself when you were looking for her, she's the most popular person in this shithole. Do you really think no one had any idea what happened to her? That no one knew where she was for the last 10 days? People only see what they want; Faye knows that better than anyone. She's just ballsy enough to use it to her advantage."

"'Ballsy'?"

"Shut up. I couldn't think of a better word."

"What about you, Ed?"

"What about me?"

"You want to be anonymous to?"

"Me, nah. I couldn't be any more anonymous if I tried. I mean come on, Spike. My name is Ed."

"Yeah, but now we know you're a girl."