Distance. It seemed that was all there was between them. Though not vast, it was still painfully there , measured out in curt conversations, intense gazes, and long restless nights.

Leaning against the door frame, Faye stared out across the flight deck. Perched at the edge, fishing pole in hand, sat Spike. He looked like a statue built to honor her ever growing frustration.

It had been just over a week since their last taboo encounter in that shady motel that they had come to favor. It had also been one of the longest weeks she could recall, as she had done as much as possible to avoid being alone with him. Unfortunately she knew she couldn't avoid him forever.

Reeling in some of the slack in his line, Spike listened to the familiar set of footsteps across the flight deck, as they approached closer, he cracked another beer from the six pack that sat beside him. "Hey."

"Hey." Gazing out toward the sun, slowly making its way lower into the sky, Faye took a deep breath. " Catch anything?"

Smirking, Spike reached into the six pack, extending a beer up to her. " A little buzz, that's about it."

Taking the beer, Faye twisted the cap off, and carefully took a seat beside him, her legs hanging over the edge of the Bebop, mirroring Spike. "That's not such a bad thing."

"Yeah I guess…" Spike was cut off at the sound of the bay doors opening, as the Hammerhead took off, the breeze left in its wake making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. " Where's Jet off too?"

"Oh…" Faye took a long drink from her beer. " He said he was meeting up with Bob, said something about making sure we don't kill each other while he's gone. Ya know, the usual."

Spike chuckled. " Well I don't think he has to worry too much about that."

Faye fell silent, taking another drink from her bottle, she glanced sidelong at his hands, slender fingers wrapped around the fishing pole. Slender fingers that belonged to hands that she was certain had broken a few noses in their time. She knew they were calloused from years of handling a gun, and from tools carefully handled while tinkering around with the Swordfish. She knew those fingers belonged to hands capable of violence, and yet they also belonged to hands that, while tangled in starchy motel room sheets were also capable of being far more gentle than she could have ever imagined. She felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach.

"You're not wearing any make up." His words sharply cut through her reverie. Faye quickly composed herself, somehow finding that air of indifference that she prided herself of possessing.

"Is that your way of trying to say I look like shit?"

Much to her dismay, those fingers and hands she had been so recently musing over, gently traced the side of her face. She instantly loathed herself for enjoying the warmth they spread through out her body.

"No, I like it."

"Oh…" That had been unexpected, Faye desperately racked her brain for some witty retort, which failed to form in her racing mind. She opened her mouth to get something out before things grew quiet once more, but before she could get anything out she was cut off with a searing kiss from the lanky man beside her.

Setting her beer down, she brought her hand up to rest against his cheek as he deepened the kiss, her finger tips tracing along the stubble on his face. As his lips trailed down her neck, that warmth she had felt early turned to a raging fire. Reluctantly she pushed him away, confused by the hurt she saw in his eyes as he pulled back.

"Not here…inside." She motioned with her head toward the door, ignoring the little voice of reason in her head that tried to warn her not to bring their trysts onto home turf.

Spike smirked, rising to his feet, offering her a hand to her feet. "I like the way you think Valentine."

Unfortunately for them, they didn't make it very far at all. Back pressed against the cool metal of the Bebop's hull, just outside the bay doors, Faye closed her eyes as Spike's lips once against began their assault on her neck. "We're not there yet…" She murmured.

Mismatched brown met green for a moment, as Spike flashed a devilish grin. "Faye. Shut up." His lips were on hers again. This time it didn't matter. As her nimble fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, coherent Faye had left the building and was no where in sight.

There was a large screw sticking out of the hull of the Bebop, Faye only became aware of it as it dug into her back, as she tried to wait for her racing heart to catch up to the pace of her calming breath. She also focused on the screw to distract herself from the vice like grip Spike still had on the back of her thighs.

"God damn." Spike mumbled against Faye's neck, his lips ghosting against her skin.

"Mm..Hm." She murmured, pulling back slightly, trying to capture his lips in a kiss, but they only managed to brush against his sweaty forehead, the salty taste lingering as he released his grip on her, lowering her to her feet.

Quickly buttoning his fly, Spike shoved his hands in his pockets, leisurely strolling back toward his previous perch at the edge of flight deck.

Faye quickly pulled her bottoms up, dumbfounded. Her confusion soon gave way to anger, she wanted to slap him, yell at him, anything. Her anger was further spurred as she heard him whistle a sharp, lilting tune as he walked away.

For the first time all day, Faye listened to the small rational voice inside, rather than give into her anger and hurt, she disappeared into the bowels of the ship.

Sometime later, tears of anger mixing with the lukewarm spray of the shower, Faye tried to scrub all traces of the lanky cowboy from her skin. Not that it mattered anyways, he was in her head, and worse yet, in her heart.

She knew it was pretty much playing with fire from the get go, no matter what she felt for him, to get involved physically. She had been able to handled getting tangled up in the sheets of the cheap motels, but today, on the Bebop, as he had strode away from her so carelessly, he had made her feel like nothing more than a cheap whore. And that was surely something she was not, of that much she was sure.

Turning off the shower, and wrapping herself in a towel, she sighed as she leaned back against the bathroom door. There was only one thing left to do, and that was to outright confront Spike. Too bad she didn't have the first clue as how to do that. But it was something that couldn't be avoided any longer. Sighing once more, she pulled the towel tighter around herself. Good luck Faye.