His voice is like a Mars-bar

Spike's helping Faith dress because she still has trouble with some movements, like putting on her bra. Of course Xander knocks and comes in just as Spike's fastening it for her. It's no fun at all watching the changes on Xander's face. It goes from 'whooee, I might get a peek at a hot chick in her undies', to 'lookit the evil disgusting vampire slut allowing the evil undead to put his unclean hands on her!'.

If Buffy had to take that face when she was boinking Spike, no wonder it took her so long to admit to it. Faith pretends she doesn’t see it. He's not her lifelong friend.

"Hey Xan!" she says brightly. "Ready in a minute. You got new orders form the General?"

"Nope, just checking if you were in fighting shape?" he says, looking doubtfully at her bandages and already half out of the door, dying to be away from them.

"I may not be able to put on my own T-shirt," Faith says cheerfully, "but I sure as hell can swing this sword around!"

Xander does not look assured, but nods and skedaddles. Spike helps her into a shirt and jacket and puts on his own black T-shirt.

"Ready, Faith?"

"Ready, Spike."

They leave the room. Faith rolls her eyes when Spike holds the door for her and motions her through. Man, that's what you get when you date someone that ancient, she guesses. He offers his arm to her on top of the stairs. Does he think she's that weak or does he want to make a public announcement or something? Faith is about to decline brusquely when she sees a flicker of something in his eyes, as if it really matters, and that makes her accept. She learns another factoid about Buffy she didn’t really want to know. So not Miss Perfect in Faith's head anymore.

The sight of Spike and Faith descending arm in arm set off the younger pots like crazy. They giggle and whisper like they're even younger than they are. Jeez. What the hell else did the little twerps think those screams and moans meant? Clueless middle class Skippers, all of them. Then again, there might be advantages to not sleeping your youth away, not three feet from where you mother is having it off with the as yet nameless Uncle X or Y. Faith sighs. She's gotten unnaturally mellow; it must be the onset of middle age.

There are blankets for Spike ready by the front door. Andrew and Faith help him to the bus. The potentials politely make a space so they can sit together. Faith holds tight to a blanket-swaddled hand and gets quietly creeped out by this incredibly polite acceptance. A little resistance would feel more normal.

******

Faith stands dangerously close to the crater rim anaresares at the hole where Sunnydale used to be. Somewhere in there are the remains of Buffy. She can't get her mind around it yet. She shuffles her dusty boot and sees a clump of rocks fall down in growing jumps to the bottom. It takes a long time. Some part of her wants to jump after it and just forget about everything else, the bus, the girls, the Scoobies who're out of their minds with loss. Poor Dawn. Spike, who's going crazy with grief and anger under his blanket, who really needs her to keep it together.

She's still standing here. She needs a few moments alone. What has she done? Taken on all B.'s burdens, sister, pots, friends, lover? She doesn’t think she could keep the friends together, and doesn’t want to try. Spike is enough for her, for the time being.

She doesn’t want to be Buffy anymore. Her way was a hard one, and she's seen the absolute joy on Buffy's face when the amulet starting burning though her. She was going back to a place she knew and missed more than anyone understood, Faith thinks. She yelled at her and Spike to leave, to scat, it was her job the save the world and they should move on and save themselves. She'd threatened to haunt them if they didn’t come out of this alive, and Faith can't remember when she's heard Buffy quip like that. She was happy, liberated, finally getting free of all that was dragging her down. Faith vows not to let things drag her down.

She shimmies her shoulders, as if to let something slip from there, and walks back to the bus. Her intention to get straight back to Spike is foiled every step she takes. They all want to connect to her, catching her eye and wanting attention. Giles sits with his arms around Dawn, staring blankly outside, lost in his grief. He looks up when Faith comes by and wants to nod at her, but his face crumples and he crawls back into nothingness.

Robin grabs her hand. "Faith…" he says, and looks at her soulfully. He's hurt, so Faith doesn’t jerk back, but gently puts his hand back on his own chest. "You did good. You need to rest now," she tells him. He’ll have to make do with that. He's least affected of all of them, how well did he know Buffy, anyway?

Xander doesn't speak, just looks up to her with his eye full of unspoken feelings, anger, hurt, trust that she’ll make it better. She rests her hand on his shoulder and looks at him seriously, then moves on. Your girlfriend was a big-mouthed bitch, but she died well. She's so damn civilized now.

Willow and Kennedy have each other.

The heaving blanket in the back in still in place. She roots under it and clasps the wet hand that grasps at her firmly back. She locates his head through the rough grey wool and lays a hand on it.

"It's all gone, baby, " she says softly to Spike. "Like a giant bomb crater. Nothing left of sweet Sunnyhell."

END