Disclaimer: If you got to this site, it wouldn't surprise me if you'd already noticed, but, it is called FanFiction for a reason.

O.o…Damn. This turned out to be way longer than I had expected. Get ready…

On with the story!

MMN—CRAZY—NMM

Spike had forgotten when he'd activated the autopilot. Forgotten when he'd closed his eyes and fallen asleep holding Faye. Forgotten that he wasn't supposed to do any of it…

It was nice to forget.

He felt Faye stirring and halfway opened his eyes. Where were they now? He tried to sit up, but it was nearly impossible without waking Faye up. He rubbed his eyes and slid his hand to the back of his stiff neck. But to his surprise, instead of feeling his skin, his hand slid over Faye's hand which was wrapped around his neck. His hand remained motionless over hers for less than a second before he pulled it away.

An alarm beeped. Faye stirred again and Spike tried to see what was wrong. The alarm sounded again. He looked down at Faye. Her eyebrows were knitting together. Was she having a nightmare? He slowly took her hand away from his neck and shook her by the shoulder as he sat up. He looked at the controllers. The alarm had set off because they were going off course.

"Hey, wake up," he said, though not too loudly and much more gently than he had expected. He took the ship out of autopilot with his free hand.

She opened her eyes and blinked several times. She looked around almost as if trying to locate herself. "I'm awake," she said hastily taking Spike's hand away from her shoulder. She maneuvered herself off of his lap and stood quietly behind the pilot's seat.

"We're almost there," he said as he relocated the ship in the right direction. He felt her hair stroke his cheek as she leaned forward trying to see the coordinate's board. Her breath caressed his skin.

"I hope Jet has something to eat ready for us. I'm starving," she said casually.

"Knowing Jet, either mushrooms and beef…or ramen," Spike said trying to ignore her stray hair tickling the side of his face.

"I hope it's not ramen," she replied.

Then they both remained quiet, unable to strike up a conversation. Though to a point, Spike wasn't sure if it was really necessary to speak at the moment. He liked being close to Faye. And if the only way he could achieve this was by being cramped in such a small space without saying much, quite truthfully, he'd be willing to do it.

But eventually, he could see Earth in the distance. And then, much quicker than he had expected, or wanted, the atmosphere of the planet was making the ship rock roughly. Spike asked Faye to hold on, but instead of wrapping her arms around his waist like before, she clutched the back of the pilot's seat. Spike ignored this and focused on getting the ship trough with ease. The change was sudden. For a minute, his arms were tense as the ship tore through the atmosphere, but once he entered, the ship flew easily and his muscles relaxed. He continued flying towards the location Jet had planned. He spotted the Bebop immediately. Even from a distance, he could tell it was not in the best of shape.

"What happened?" Faye asked him quietly. Spike could tell she was worried.

"I don't know," he said as he continued to notice more of the damage, "I left before that happened…But it's not as bad as it seems," he said trying to reassure her, "They were able to fly here after all."

"Spike-person!" Ed's voice came in loudly through the speakers of the ship. Spike and Faye bolted from the unexpected and noisy interruption. Then, Ed's face appeared on the communication system screen. "FAYE-FAYE!"

"Hey, Ed," Faye said smiling. Spike could feel her breathing was still irregular from the surprise.

"Ed'll open the gates…If they still work."

"Thanks," Faye said before Ed disappeared from the screen.

"I wish she wouldn't do that," Spike said as he prepared the ship to land. "It's one of her worst habits," he added as an afterthought.

"Really?" Faye said with a hint of mischief, "Are you sure it's not just because you get scared easily?"

"Me?" Spike answered, "I wish you could have seen yourself."

He hovered over the gates waiting for them to open. A small crevice formed, and then the gates closed again. He saw the same thing happen once more. Faye suggested that it was pointless to wait when he could just land the ship on the deck. He sat the ship down smoothly and he heard Faye sigh with relief as the cockpit opened. He watched her climb out of the ship and stretch herself. She flinched from time to time, especially when she stretched her arms over her head. It must have been that the cuts on her chest were being torn open again.

He wasn't in as much of a hurry as she was to get out. After all, they were back to where they should have been to begin. He saw Faye staring at him, almost as if telling him to hurry up. He climbed out of the ship in one easy move while she waited. But just as he walked nearer to her, she took a step forward towards the door. Spike didn't like her avoiding him. Especially since she always seemed to temp him towards her. His hand almost reached out to pull her back and stop her from walking away, but he knew that was too extreme. So instead, he simply stretched his back and walked behind her.

Faye opened the door and as soon as she did, Ed took a hold of her arm and pulled her inside. Spike heard Ed say something about getting cleaned up and painting Faye's nails red. And then he watched them walk away. He spotted the cut behind Faye's neck and then automatically remembered all the other wounds that covered her chest. He couldn't understand the concept behind butchering her like that. His skin crawled. And suddenly, he felt the desire to hurt someone.

He forced the thought away from his mind but made a memo to bother Faye about cleaning up the wounds. He walked over to the yellow couch and lay down with his arm over his eyes. His body felt drained. His breathing was thin and quiet. He felt the dust and dried sweat stuck to his skin. But most of all, he heard his heart beat calmly for the first time in so many hours. The sound made as his blood pumped in and out of his heart was so relaxing. He felt his mind gradually shutting down. He didn't even notice when Ein licked his hand and then walked away seeing no response from him. At some point, Spike heard the clanking of Jet's boots come nearer. He sat up slowly and shoved the sleepiness away.

"So how did it go?" Jet asked. He was drying his hands on a small green towel.

"Well enough," Spike answered shortly.

"You seen Ed?"

"She's with Faye…" he said dismissively. When he spoke her name, he remembered the way that her eyes had looked a while back, right after he'd kicked the door of the warehouse open. He didn't like to see her eyes like that. Completely untrusting. Vague. "That Zeus–Stephen guy. Whatever he wants to call himself. He cut Faye again. I found them in a room of an old warehouse. But when I showed up, she'd already killed him…The hardest thing though, was getting in and out of there."

Jet took a seat on the couch across from Spike. "Was it that tight in security?"

"No. But there was some sort of fight going on."

"So, apart from the cuts, is Faye alright?"

Spike stayed quiet for a second. Did nightmares count? He yawned. "At least that I could tell…Just the cuts and she's tired…and hungry. Actually, do you have something ready? I'm starving."

"I'm working on it. Whether you brought Faye back or not, I kind of figured you'd be hungry since you didn't even bother to eat breakfast that morning she left."

"What are we having?" Spike said slouching on the couch and diverting Jet's train of thought.

"What else? Mushrooms and beef!" he said. "Where are you going now?" Jet asked when he saw Spike standing up.

"I'll be asleep in my room. Wake me up when the food's ready."

Spike walked there slowly and closed the door behind him. He took his jacket off and threw it over a chair while simultaneously slipping his shoes off. He walked to his bed and took a seat. He unbuttoned the three topmost buttons of his shirt. He glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside; it was already 5:13 p.m. Spike lay over the sheets and fell asleep and dreamt of nothing.

II-II II-II II-II

Someone was knocking on his door. He peered at the clock before turning away, it was a little past six. The knocking continued. Spike heard the door being opened and someone step in.

"Hey, wake up," she said in a whisper.

It was Faye.

Spike pretended not to hear her. Now that he was so comfortable, he didn't feel like getting up. He wasn't even hungry anymore.

"You're going to eat alone if you don't get up," she said, her voice no longer a whisper.

Spike opened his eyes. She was holding the door open while leaning on the doorway. He looked at her as he sat up. She was wearing one of his sleeping shirts again.

"You really like wearing my clothes, don't you?" Spike said as he walked out of the room. Faye followed him.

"It's not like I'm doing it on purpose," she said defiantly, "I don't have clothes here. Jet's shirts are too big and Ed's are too small. I can't even breathe with them on—and with all these cuts it–where are you going?" Faye asked as she abruptly stopped when she noticed Spike wasn't walking towards the kitchen anymore.

"I'm going to shower," he answered plainly.

Spike heard her walk away. He went into the bathroom and turned the shower on. He undressed and stepped under the water. It wasn't even lukewarm. He sighed. It would have to do. It wasn't the first time that he'd have to shower with cold water anyway. He washed his hair and some of the shampoo fell on his eyes. He wiped it away and then smirked. Somehow, his clothes suited Faye.

II-II II-II II-II

For a few days, Spike remained locked in his room. When he was all rested up and tired of being secluded, he walked out onto the living room. Jet was making calls trying to order parts for the ship. Spike sat down to watch Ed play chess against someone named FlowerSlayer15-something-something. Faye was sitting on the opposite couch cleaning her wounds.

From time to time, Spike would glance over to see how Faye was doing. She got the cuts on her chest easily, but the one on her neck was deeper and harder to clean. She picked up a mirror, tried to pull her hair away from her neck, and clean the wound up all at the same time. Faye noticed Spike staring at her. He was about to look away, but that would really have made him look guilty.

"It's not very amusing," she said irritated.

"If you need help just say so," Spike responded.

She didn't argue.

He stood up and took the ball of cotton away from her hand, his fingertips barely touching her skin. She turned her back towards him and he sat down behind her. He ran his hand lightly over her neck to move her hair away. He shifted it to rest on one side of her neck. A few strands remained. Her hand moved over his and she swept the rest of it. Her fingertips brushed over his hand. She held her hair to the side and waited for his help. He cleaned the cut slowly and carefully. It was healing, but it was still abrasive.

"This is getting better," he said quietly. Somehow, it seemed unfit to speak too loudly.

"They're all healing up pretty fast," she said in the same tone he had spoken.

Jet sat the communicator down on the table and took a seat where Spike had been. "Looks like I've finally finished ordering all the things we need. Hopefully it'll all get here though."

"We're staying on Earth?" Faye said. Her voice was normal again though she sounded a little worried.

"It'll be okay," Jet answered, "Earth is not a place people want to bother with. Besides, I don't think you have to worry about getting chased or anything. I got in touch with some of my old contacts. The Blue Moon's gone under. And just about everyone in it. The police arrested a lot of them due to your basic crimes. Stealing. Cheating. Contraband. Murder…The casino is still up, but now it's owned by someone else."

"Really," Spike said sounding purposely interested. He could care less about the casino. As far as he was concerned, they had nothing to do with it anymore. He took a bandage from Faye's hand, their hands didn't touch anymore. Jet was watching them now. He would notice those little things. Spike unwrapped the bandage and placed it over the wound.

"Yeah," Jet continued aware of Spike's indifference. "The woman who claims it renamed it…Azazel, I think."

"Huh?" Faye said, "I wonder who she is."

"She was a young red-headed girl. Big eyes. Well built," Jet answered. "The story came out in the news last night. She'd just recently applied for a job at the Blue Moon but was rejected before everything went down. Somehow she got 'lucky' and landed herself enough money through gambling to buy the structure…sounds like she had some underhanded moves to me."

"Check Mate!" Ed said loudly. They stopped talking and turned their attention to Ed. They watched as she carefully placed the last piece down and captured the other player's king. She'd been playing the game for two days straight. It wasn't the most time she'd spent on a single game, but it was still something to be noted.

"Which reminds me," Jet began again after Ed threw her hands up in success, "there's a guy on the loose under the alias Check Mate. His bounty is still not high enough. Right now he'll be more trouble than he's worth. If the bounty gets high enough on him, which I'm certain it will, we may want to keep an eye on him. With the damage to the ship, we'll need the money."

"What's he wanted for?" Faye asked as she stood up from the couch and gathered all the bandages and medicines from the table.

"Killing corporate presidents," Jet answered.

They began making plans for other possible hunts and took up most of the afternoon talking about the one thing they all understood: bounty hunting.

The days continued to pass, mostly uneventful. Jet continued to organize the ship's repairs. Ed made plans to visit some friends of hers living on Earth. Faye and Spike saw little of each other. Except for the time they spent together after dinner, when Spike helped Faye clean the wound on her neck. He noticed that every day, their hands seemed to meet more and more. But after the wound on her neck, and the rest of the other cuts healed, there seemed to be no excuse for either of them to spend time together. And their hands didn't touch anymore.

It was only during meals that he saw her. One night during dinner, Spike noticed Faye was missing from the table. He tried not to think too much about it and figured she had gone to bed early or just wasn't feeling hungry at the time. Luckily, he didn't have to ask anything. A few minutes into the meal, Ed asked Jet about Faye.

"She said she was going to go get a drink," was Jet's response. Then he said, "Do you guys want any more food? There's plenty."

After that, the idea was dismissed quickly from the conversation. However, Spike couldn't help but mull over her in his mind. He didn't like the uncomfortable relationship that he had developed with Faye. It wasn't as if he hated her; it was actually the opposite. And for the longest time he had believed that Faye liked him. A lot. But now he wasn't so sure. He couldn't trust anything he believed anymore. He wasn't even certain that he understood himself to begin.

He always had liked Faye. But he'd managed to see her only as a partner or a co-worker. At some point, he'd been stupid enough to let the idea slip and now he sat there debating with himself. What was Faye to him? And of course, what was he to her? If Spike knew her as much as he believed, he'd also stopped being her partner, or just her friend, for a long time. But due to how she'd behaved recently, he couldn't trust that idea either.

He should have never touched her.

That was definitely why he was so worked up now. It mixed up every single one of his ideas. It was a given that actions speak louder than words. So what did that tell him? That they were physically attracted to each other? That they were both sexually frustrated? That they were bored? It was definitely enough to stir everything. But what any action could mean was completely unspecified. A kiss could be nothing else and nothing more than a kiss.

He considered her reaction if he were to pull her aside and ask her whether she liked him or not. He smirked. Jet and Ed stared questioningly at him but Spike ignored them. The idea reminded him of the first time a girl confessed to him. But being so blunt was probably not the best way for him to settle things now. It might work for high schoolers and teenagers. For the kind of thing that wouldn't make a difference in a few weeks or even days. The kind of thing that wouldn't change the stability of something. The kind of interest that could be considered only a fleeting experience.

This was nothing like it.

It included Faye and him. It even included Jet and Ed indirectly. The way that Faye and he acted on different situations. The effectiveness of a hunt. The way they all made a living…their way of living. When he thought about it, it only made sense to return to a co-worker relationship. But he couldn't fully convince himself of it. And that was the problem.

Faye didn't return an hour after the meal. Not an hour after they had finished watching television. It was midnight and she was still not back. Spike, Jet, and Ed were awake. They sat around the living room doing nothing. Spike's mind was racing with ideas. Was it possible for her to be in trouble again? She really needed to quit the habit of making them worry.

"I suppose there is no point on waiting around," Jet said almost as if reading his mind. "I'm sure she's fine." Jet got up and started to leave the living room. Ed didn't say anything but she also stood up.

"Goodnight, Ed," Spike said as he lit the last of his cigarettes.

"Goodnight, Spike-person," she responded and left the room after picking Ein up from under the coffee table.

Spike noticed that Ed had left the computer sitting on the table without being shut down. He stared at it as he smoked. When the screen went black, he continued to watch television. Spike checked the time, it was almost one. He couldn't sleep. His hands were restless. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch. He was strongly craving nicotine, but he didn't have any more cigarettes around. If he could make it to a store or a bar, he would surely be able to find some. For a second, he hesitated to leave the Bebop. He didn't want it to appear as if he'd gone out looking for Faye. But it was hard enough to just sit around. It was even harder without nicotine.

He didn't think any of the stores were open any more, so he decided to pass by a bar. There weren't too many around, only two that he could think of. The possibility that he would run into Faye was very high. Would it really matter though? He was going to buy smokes, get a drink if he felt like it. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He walked to his room to get his coat. He could tell it was cold by the fog that was forming on the glass windows. When he stepped out of the Bebop and into the street, the breeze was gently lifting the dust from the streets. Spike walked to the nearest bar.

When he got there, the door was a bit hard to open, but that was to be expected; the place looked run down. He stepped in. The atmosphere of the room was hot. Almost instantly, he removed his coat. He spotted an open spot on the counter next to a space that was covered in glasses, most of which still had some amount of alcohol in them. He sat down on a stool and looked around.

"What can I get you?" a girl with black eyes, probably too young to be working there, asked him.

"I just came for some cigarettes."

"We don't have much choice," she said pulling a few packs out.

Spike had never tried any of them. He didn't care. Right now all he wanted was some amount of nicotine in his body. "Whatever's cheapest," he said.

"Do you want anything to drink while you're here?"

"Not right now," he answered and paid her.

He opened the pack and placed a cigarette between his lips. He dug around in his pockets for a lighter. There was nothing. He was just about to ask the girl if she had one when he heard Faye. He knew it was likely that he'd run into her. Half of him had hoped he wouldn't see her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him. She spoke slowly trying to make her words understandable. The r's and t's were spoken too weakly. It was obvious she was drunk.

He waited for a second to reply. "What does it look like?" Spike said. But before she could answer him, he changed his mind and asked her for a lighter. She dug inside her pocket and handed it to him. Her hand carelessly touched his. He waited for her to lift her hand away before finally lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. The nicotine in his mouth was bittersweet. The smell of burning paper and tobacco made him relax. Faye sat down on the stool in front of all the glasses. She picked one up and took a drink out of it. "How are you going to pay for all that?" he asked her.

"I'm not," she said picking a different glass up. "Do you see that guy on the table by the door? The one with a red shirt. I made a bet to out drink him. If I won, he'd pay for all my drinks. Well, he was stupid enough to agree." Faye took a drink out of a glass that was almost full. "Here have some," she said. But she didn't hand him the glass; she slid it on the counter until it was in front of his seat.

Spike saw the imprint of her red lipstick on the clear glass. He picked it up and brought it close to his lips. He was about to take a drink when a thought crossed his mind.

"And what if you didn't win?" he said before taking a small drink.

She rolled her eyes as if it was the most obvious answer. Spike understood immediately. She'd spend a night with the guy. He felt dull even for asking. He swallowed the drink in his mouth. The liquor left a strange aftertaste on the back of his throat. Spike sat the glass down and smoked instead. Faye didn't say anything else to him. He smoked for a while. After a few minutes, his eyelids felt heavy. He stood up and placed the cigarettes in his shirt pocket.

"Hold on," Faye said, "I don't know if I'll make it back otherwise."

She sat her glass down uneasily. Some of the dark liquor spilled on the counter and on her hand. Faye shook the liquid away from her hand, but a few drops remained clinging to her skin. She looked at them briefly before licking them away. Spike followed her movements.

"Whatever suits you," he finally said.

She walked behind him as they exited the bar. The wind wasn't blowing as hard as it had before, but it was still cold. Spike waited for Faye to catch up. Her shirt was visibly thin and the wind moved through it easily. She crossed her arms around her chest.

"Do you want to wear this?" he said handing her his jacket. She shook her head. Spike shrugged his shoulders. But he didn't wear the jacket either; he carried it on his arm.

They didn't say anything for a while, but the silence was strange, so they attempted to make conversation.

"Have you ever wondered if you could beat me at drinking?" Faye asked.

"Not really," Spike answered. He considered it for a second. "I'm pretty sure I could."

Faye didn't answer immediately. "I don't have any money to bet with."

"I thought you'd be exchanging sex favors," he said sounding just barely bitter. Faye didn't respond. "Guess there's no bet," he added, making sure to control his voice again.

"Guess so," she said after a few seconds.

"So how much did you drink tonight?" he said.

"I can't remember," she answered.

He didn't know what else to say so he kept quiet.

She looked around as they walked back to the Bebop. Spike wasn't paying attention to anything else but the walkway. He heard Faye trip over something. He turned around. Faye took a hold of his body as she kept herself from falling. Her head barely touched his chest. Spike dropped his coat trying to catch her. Her breathing warmed the cloth of his shirt. She clung to him for a second before either moved. For a moment, he felt his pulse racing.

"I'd say you drank plenty," Spike said as he helped her regain her balance before lengthening their proximity.

"I think I tripped over a rock," she said looking back and slowly releasing her hold on him. He stared in the same direction she had but failed to see anything.

Spike looked down at his coat. It was covered with large dust spots. He sighed heavily as he bent down to pick it up. But he saw Faye also reach down and stopped before their heads collided. She picked the coat up from the ground and tried to get most of the dust off with her hands. As she stood up, she folded the coat over her arm.

"I'll carry it." Spike said. She shook her head and ran her hand over her forehead. Then she covered her face with his coat. "You okay?" He said trying to uncover her face. She shook her head again.

"I don't feel right," she said with her face buried in his jacket.

Spike snickered for a second. He looked around the streets. They were mostly empty. "Here," he said. He placed one of his arms around her shoulders and led her in the right direction. "You're going to have a hell of a morning tomorrow."

"Shut up," she said slowly uncovering her face. "Are we very far?"

"A few more blocks."

"I'm never going to drink this much again..." She laughed. "I don't even believe that."

Spike smirked. He'd have to agree with her.

He glanced at her before turning his attention to the walkway. The dim light of the night made her skin look almost like porcelain. He didn't mind doing this for Faye. And when he considered how distant she had been with him before, he was glad that after some drinks she could be so lax around him. It had been a while since they behaved so indifferently of their actions. However, even now, he knew that limits were still set.

Once he saw she was stable again, he slowly removed his arm from around her. But for a few seconds, Faye kept her body close to his. He could feel the warmth of her side against his. He put his hands in his pockets, trying to again regain what had become their usual distance, and walked slowly until she stepped away from him.

After a while she asked him, "So what was it you said you'd been doing… I mean, in the five years you were gone?"

"I've already told you," he said a little annoyed. But he knew very well that she hadn't been paying attention to him when he had told her on the way to Earth. She had fallen asleep as soon as he had begun to speak. He could have easily repeated himself, but he didn't like to talk about being part of some cryogenics experiment. It made him feel like a piece of last week's dinner meat stuffed at the back of a freezer. And to him, that really didn't matter. "Besides, if I tell you again tonight, you'll probably forget by tomorrow," he said to dismiss her question.

When they arrived at the Bebop, Faye automatically lay down on the yellow couch. She kicked her shoes off and watched Spike as he sat across from her on the other couch. The lights were off, but Ed's computer was open on the table and Faye had somehow managed to accidentally take the computer out of standby mode. Spike guessed her hand had landed on the keyboard as she sat down. He saw her face through the strange light of the computer screen. Her skin was pale and full of shadows. He couldn't do anything but stare. Faye's eyes met his.

Spike took out a cigarette and lit it. She smiled. Her eyes were piercing and entrancing. Helooked away and got up from the couch. He walked around the table and crouched near her. He placed a cigarette between her lips and then gently laid the lighter on her palm. He stood up, took a drag out of his cigarette, and walked away.

"Hey," she called after him. "Do you know where Jet keeps the blankets?"

"No," he answered.

"Damn it. I'm cold."

She sat up and flicked the lighter on. He watched the tip of her cigarette turn a bright orange. Faye blew the smoke out slowly, the light from the computer played on the smoke of the cigarette until the screen turned black again.

"Just take one from my room," he said unable to see her in the dim light and walking away.

"I'll get it," she said standing up. One of her hands lightly rested on his back as she walked behind him. Spike could hear her breathing.

He couldn't remember if he had an extra blanket folded somewhere in his room, so he decided to give her one from his bed. He turned the lights of his room on as soon as he entered. Her hand slid away from his back. But she stood by him as he took one of the covers away from his bed. He handed the blanket to her, their hands meeting again. He almost expected her to immediately leave after that. But she didn't. Their skin was still touching. And before he knew it, their eyes had locked. He heard the pounding of his blood on his eardrums. And felt his body being drawn to her.

The lights flickered off and on. He blinked. Spike's glance broke away from hers. She walked out of his room without saying a word. He heard hers steps fade and closed the door after the hall grew silent. He breathed slowly. He knew that she was too drunk and he was too sober to allow anything to happen. He locked the door. Spike put on sleeping clothes and turned out the light. He slid between the sheets of his bed and tried to fall asleep. But again, thoughts of her were consuming his mind.

The next morning Spike got out of bed almost at eleven. His head was aching, but he couldn't say that it was from sleeping too much since he had barely rested that night. He made his way into the kitchen to get himself some coffee. He walked past the living room. Faye was curled up on the couch with his blanket slung across her body. Her hair lay gently on her face. Her shirt had become partially unbuttoned. Her shoes were thoughtlessly laid on the ground. She looked like a stray black cat that had snuck in and was carelessly napping on the couch. He glanced at her again before resuming his walk.

He could tell that Ed and Jet had already eaten. There were dirty dishes in the sink and there was an empty but used pan still setting on the stovetop. Spike wasn't hungry. He didn't look for food at all; he simply made himself a large cup of strong, black coffee. When Spike smelled the intense scent, he felt his mind quickly recover. He took a drink out of the cup and was just about to leave the kitchen when Jet walked in.

"Did you go looking for Faye last night?" Jet said sounding more casual than he should have.

"No," Spike answered bluntly as he walked out into the living room. "I went to buy some cigarettes and she followed me back."

Faye was sitting up on the couch now. Her eyes were almost closed, but she was awake. "Why do you guys have to be so loud?" she said irritated.

"We're not being loud," Spike answered raising his voice just a little bit, "you're just hung over."

"Idiot, don't you think I know that." She pulled the blanket away from her body and got up. She seemed to be walking towards the kitchen, but then she glanced at Spike's coffee. "So that's what woke me up." She took the cup out of his hands. She didn't touch him.

"That's mine," Spike said, but Faye had already taken a drink from it. Her face contorted as she swallowed.

"Urgh, how can you drink this?" she said handing him the cup back. "I'll go make my own." Then, she walked into the kitchen.

Spike stared at the cup before bringing it close to his lips. He was about to take a drink, but decided against it. He sat the cup down on the table. She'd regret doing that to him. He left the living room and went to the restroom. He showered making sure to use up all the hot water before Faye did.

As Spike walked out of the bathroom, he saw Ed making her way out of the Bebop. She wore a messenger bag and had her computer hoisted on her head. Ein was following her closely. Spike figured that Ed had finally decided to go and visit the friends she said were on Earth. She turned to look at him and smiled as she waved good-bye. Spike lifted his hand and thoughtlessly waved back before she and Ein moved out of sight.

The Bebop was liveliest with Ed around. Even if there was nothing going on, she managed to keep things interesting. The difference was obvious now that she was gone. The Bebop was quiet again and it had only been a couple of hours after her departure. Spike was watching the news. Jet was tending to his trees. Faye was sleeping in her room. The rest of the day was very much the same; they didn't even bother to eat together.

The next morning was different. Jet had breakfast made and managed to get Spike and Faye out of bed early enough. After breakfast they gathered in the living room for what seemed to be no reason in particular. But before they had said anything, Jet got a call. He stepped out of the room to take it. Spike and Faye said nothing and waited for him to get back. As Jet took a seat again, it was obvious that something hadn't gone the way he had expected.

"Listen, half of the parts I ordered got shipped to the wrong location," Jet said.

"Can't you just get them to be shipped here?" Faye asked.

"The delivery system only goes through there once a week. It would take at least that long for them to get here…if we get lucky. And if they're not picked up, they'll get sold to someone else." He got up from his seat. "I'm going pick them up. It won't take me but a couple of days and it's about time I got working on the repairs of the ship."

"I'll go get them," Spike said realizing that if Jet left, he'd be left alone with Faye. He wasn't sure that it was a good idea for the two to be left alone. Not when everything seemed so messed up.

"Nah, I'll take care of it," Jet answered, "I'm the one who knows what I ordered and if there are any more errors, I'm the one who knows what we need to repair the ship…Besides, I feel like doing something. Unlike you guys, I can't seem to just lounge around."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Spike said.

Jet ignored his question and said, "I have to get a few things ready before I leave."

The sound of his boots against the floor of the Bebop slowly faded. Spike glanced at Faye. She left the room a second after. Spike felt awkward in the room, even if he was alone, so he left to take a walk on the dusty streets of Earth.

He didn't keep track of how long he lingered around, but by the time he had returned to the Bebop the sun was setting. It was quiet. Yet something told him he wasn't the only one there. His steps echoed in the silence. He looked around as he made his way to the kitchen to find something to eat. It wasn't necessarily that he was hungry; he just knew it was about time for him to have something. Recently, that was how his meals had become. More of a need than a want.

Spike put some water to boil and took out a cup of ramen noodles from the cupboard. He sat down on the table as he waited for the water to be ready. He tapped his finger on the tabletop in no particular rhythm, merely waiting for time to pass. When the water finally boiled, he rose to his feet and unwrapped the cup as he walked towards the stove. He heard Faye coming into the kitchen.

"Haven't seen you around," she said lethargically. "Been out all day?"

"Yeah," Spike answered in much the same manner.

He poured the water onto the cup, picked up some chopsticks, and left the kitchen. He sat down on the yellow couch and watched the news, though he wasn't completely interested in them. He'd watched the news for so long that they had slowly started to become uneventful. It was always the same thing. People dying. People killing.

A few minutes afterwards, Faye sat down to eat besides him. She placed an apple down on the table and held a can of tuna and some crackers in her hands. They ate and watched television for a while, making only minuscule comments relating to the news. When Spike had finished his noodles, Faye began to eat the apple. He tried to focus on the news, but the sound of Faye biting the fruit kept him distracted. He glanced at her from time to time, becoming slightly edgy. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch. Maybe he was just tired.

He got up and started walking to his room. Faye didn't say anything. She continued to bite the apple. Her eyes glazed with the light of the television. Spike stared at her for a second, but she didn't even glance at him as he left. He couldn't believe that she was so engrossed in the programming to not even say goodnight. He looked at her, still biting into the green skin of the fruit, before turning away.

It wasn't necessarily that he was expecting something from her. Though to a certain extent, she'd always managed to give him some recognition. And maybe he'd just grown used to it. It was only lately that she was acting so detached. He didn't like it. It was too sudden. Too haphazard. At times, Faye would look at him and only him. At others, he wasn't even there. He became irritated with himself. He went to bed and slept until late the next morning.

Faye was gone again. Spike sat alone on the yellow couch eating ramen for lunch. He watched television and wondered how long it would take for Jet or Ed to come back. Being alone with Faye was tiring. It made him think too much. Feel too much. He heard Faye's steps. He could hear her getting closer, but kept watching the broadcast.

"Hey," she said. He was just about to look at her when he felt her hand frivolously slap the back of his head. He looked at her angrily. She handed him one of three bags and took a seat across from him.

"What's this?"

"It's for you idiot," she said. "Earth is not the best place to buy clothes, but you desperately need a shirt that isn't pink."

He looked down at his shirt. After Ed had stained his shirts, he'd never bothered too much about it. It wasn't as if he didn't have enough things to think about. Spike sat his cup of noodles down and opened the bag up. He unfolded the shirt. It was light blue. It was the right size. He glanced at her questioningly.

"What's the catch?" he said looking at her.

"No catch. I did it since you gave me hell over wearing your clothes."

There must have been something that he didn't know about. Somehow, this felt like a strange act from her part. Spike tried to figure a little more out. "I thought you were broke?"

"I did a little gambling," she said walking away.

Spike folded the shirt back up and put it the bag. He leaned back and rested his head on the palm of his hand. He didn't understand her anymore. And he hated it.

II-II II-II II-II

"I'm going out for a drink," Faye said.

Spike was woken up by her voice. He opened his eyes to find her staring down at him. It was only the second time he had seen her all day long. Her lips were red. Her eyelashes were long and dark. She wore a shirt that clung to her body. A skirt that ended a hand above her knees.

"Can't you do anything else but drink?" he said sleepily as he rose from his bed.

"What else is there to do around here?" she said. "You like to drink too, don't you?"

"Why are you telling me this anyway?" he asked.

"Forget it," Faye said crossly. "…I'm just used to letting Jet know. But since he's not here you're the only one that's left."

"Fine then," he said indifferently before closing his eyes and resting again.

"Why are you…" she began irritated before her voice trailed off. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "You should get out too… Spike—" She stared at him, with those eyes that he hated to see her wear and left his room, not even bothering to finish her sentence or to close the door behind her.

Spike sat up. It was true that he hadn't done much anymore. It all was so pointless though. He could take walks. But there wasn't much to see. Nothing ever changed enough. The same thing always came over his mind. All the stupid ideas. And he was absolutely tired of it. He hated it. To feel that way. To not have enough control to stop those ideas from invading his mentality. Spike sighed heavily. He couldn't wait until they were away from Earth and entertained with bounty hunting. To find away to make those ideas of Faye fade away. To find a way to keep busy even if it was only to get on day by day…

Still. He couldn't keep himself living that way. Because, even now that he'd dismissed Faye, he'd been unwillingly listening intently to the sound of her heels; as they came nearer, as they faded. And now her voice echoed in his head. The way she said his name in anger. The times she'd spoken to him in a whisper. The way her lips moved as she spoke.

Somehow, his hand moved over his lips and gently covered his mouth. The first night he'd kissed her, how long had it been? He wanted to feel that again. That strange pounding in his chest, the one that was so similar to being on the verge of death. Yet completely different. And somehow very satisfying. He wanted to taste her again. His skin burned with the desire to feel the curves of her body that he'd been able to touch. The one's he'd wished he'd had. He sighed in frustration. He was so exhausted of it. It was always the same thing; never reaching anywhere. Only thinking and thinking. He stood up from bed feeling annoyed. Regardless of what happened, there was no way he could keep restraining himself to remain as he was. He buttoned up his coat and left the Bebop inclined to do something that he wasn't even sure about.

As always, the streets didn't look any different. The sky was cloudy though and he couldn't see any stars. The streets were relatively quiet. Every once in a while he came across a group of children playing on the streets. Sometimes it was a pair of lovers hiding in the shadows.

His heartbeats were heavy. Or rather his blood felt dense and hard to pump through his body. He trudged along the sidewalk making his way to the bar where he expected to find Faye. He really didn't know what he was doing. But he couldn't stop.

He opened the door carefully and stepped into the bar. It was hot again. Was it the room or him? He took his jacket off and looked around. He didn't see Faye anywhere. Somehow, he felt both relieved and bothered. He glanced at the counter. The same girl that had assisted him before was working there again. He walked closer to her, and noticing this, she approached him.

"What can I do for you today?" For someone working at such a place, she seemed so carefree.

"I'm looking for someone," he said, "I thought she'd be here but it doesn't look like it."

"Well, maybe I can help. I'm pretty good at remembering faces," she said smiling.

"Last time I was here, do you remember the woman," he stopped. How could he ask this? Was she the woman that he came for, came with, or just bumped into? He thought about it for a second and said, "…the woman that I sat next to?"

"Yeah, I remember." She bit her lower lip a little then said, "the pretty one with dark hair and light skin. Green eyes, I think."

"That sounds right," Spike answered.

"Lucky you," she said winking at him. She glanced at her watch. "She was here a little over half an hour ago but left after she managed to gamble some men out of their money."

"It's definitely her," Spike said with a smirk. Guess there was no way some extra cash could escape Faye.

"D'you want a drink while you're here?" she asked.

He was about to reject her offer, but he actually felt like he did need it. "I'll take some whiskey," he said.

The girl seemed overjoyed. She brought him his glass and left, still smiling. Spike didn't bother to sit down. He swallowed the drink all at once. It burned down his throat and left him pleasantly satisfied. He sat down enough money on the counter, right besides the empty glass, and didn't bother to wait for the change.

When he stepped outside, he kept his coat over his arm. He looked around the streets and up at the sky. It was definitely too early for her to have gone back to the Bebop. And if that had been the case, he probably would have met her on the way there or at the Bebop. Knowing Faye though, she'd gone to the other bar to see how much more money she could gamble men out of.

He glanced at the horizon. The only thing left of the sun was a small slice of bright white. The streets looked orange and the shadows grew quickly. He wasn't surprised when, within minutes, the streets were dark and the streetlights started to burn. Some flashed on and off. Some never came on. His pulse was even again, but he felt a piece of something stuck to the pit of his stomach. He ignored the feeling and walked again. He wasn't as rushed as he had been before. Now that he'd had time to think, his actions felt like an obvious mistake. The more steps he took, the more he repented. And yet, something kept him moving.

He walked slowly and eventually arrived at the bar. Above the door hung several signs. Most of them were advertisements for liquor. Some for cigars and cigarettes. One of them was neon red and in cursive letters read "Oversight." He opened the door and stepped in. Unlike the other bar, this one was better kept and had more customers. The smoke was rising steadily from the tables and the glasses full of alcohol were being emptied quickly.

But even in the commotion, he spotted Faye easily. She was in a corner sitting on a table for four with two other guys, one at each of her sides. Spike stared at them for a second. It looked like one was trying to pick Faye up; the other was most likely serving wingman. They didn't seem to be succeeding very well though. He could see Faye's displeasure even through the small smile on her face. They were making her some sort of wager now. He could tell because her eyebrows jumped up just a little. But really, what did she expect going alone to a place full of men dressed as she was. Even he didn't like the way they were staring at her.

He slowly made his way across to the table. Faye didn't notice him. She had focused her gaze away from the men, listlessly scanning the wall's decorations. Spike casually pulled out the empty chair and hung his coat to the back of the seat. Faye still hadn't bothered to turn, she probably expected him to be just another guy. The men stared at him gruffly, like he'd crossed into their territory.

"Whoa buddy!" the wingman said.

"Can't ya see we're having a conversation here," the other added.

Faye finally looked up. She looked at him almost as if she'd been just woken up. Spike grinned at her and sat down. "I figured I should get out too, after all," he said as casually as he could.

The men glanced back and forth between the two. Now that he was in front of her, Spike wasn't sure of what to do. Things usually just happened out of the blue between him and Faye. He didn't know what to say either, so to keep busy, he pulled out a cigarette. He placed it between his lips and was about to put the rest up when Faye stretched her hand out towards him. He took a cigarette out and placed it on her hand. Her fingertips touched the palm of his hand as she took it away from him.

"So, you finally got out of bed?" Faye said holding the cigarette close to her mouth. Her voice was soothing; completely in contrast with the tone she had used back at the Bebop. Spike flicked the lighter on. She leaned a little over the small table and waited for him to light hers first. He did so, almost mechanically.

"Yeah," Spike answered. He lit his cigarette and finished, "But you would know how comfortable it is."

Faye rolled her eyes at him, easily catching what he inferred. "Are you going to order anything to drink? We are at a bar."

He took a drag. The smoke rose from their table in little puffs and wisps. He was calm. It felt almost like years ago when he and Faye would go out to drink to the same bar. It was kind of similar to that, except for one major difference: this felt like he was basically with her, not just taking her along. And he actually wanted to be there, that was kind of new too. "What have you been having?" he asked at last.

"Scotch, bourbon, whiskey…" she said, "and a few others." She shook the ashes away from the cigarette.

"Never heard of pacing yourself, have you?" he said. It felt right to be able to talk to her again.

"Never heard of having fun?" she remarked with a hint of sarcasm.

Just then, the maid came by. Spike asked to be brought everything that Faye had had so far. Besides them, the two men had been exchanging glances constantly and had now begun to fidget. The main man tried to say something, but Spike interrupted him before he had a chance to utter anything.

"I guess I'll have test out how fun this is," he said. Then it was his turn to tap his cigarette on the ashtray.

"Either way, I'm already ahead," Faye said smugly.

"I thought we'd agreed not to do this kind of thing."

"We haven't agreed to anything," Faye said quickly. She looked away from him for a second.

He smirked at her response and said, "So you do remember a few of the things you did."

"I was drunk, not totally wasted," she said facing him again. Her skin had turned a little brighter.

"Still, you needed me to go find you before returning home," Spike said testing how much it would take to really make her blush. He didn't bother to notice exactly when, but at some point after he said that, the two guys got up from the table and left.

"You went to find me?" she said. Spike realized his mistake too late. "I thought you'd only gone to buy some cigarettes?" The hint of amusement in her voice was tempting.

"Either way you followed me back," he answered and evaded the question.

"Well then, either way you found me," she said in much the same manner he had answered.

His drinks were finally brought to the table. There were only five. Spike looked at the glasses. He really didn't care which he drank first, so he took one filled with a clear liquid. He brought it close to his lips. It had no scent. The dew from the glass slid through his fingers. It tasted slightly sweet and fresh. But there was nothing behind it. It was only water. He looked at Faye. She was smiling. It wasn't like the one she wore with the two men. She lifted up her glass and took a small sip, waiting for him to finish the water. After that, he picked up the scotch. He swallowed it all at once. It thundered down through his chest. Faye stared at him intently until he sat the glass down. It was strange to see her so focused on him. He didn't mind though. Even if it made him feel uneasy.

"You should have the bourbon next," she said as Spike reached down to pick his third drink. He lifted it up. She watched him as he drank everything in front of him. One by one the glasses were emptied. When he had caught up with her she laughed quietly for a second. Spike looked at her. She smiled a little and had the rest of her glass in one drink. That smile and those eyes. He liked her so much…Was it even considered 'like' anymore?

The barmaid walked by. He smirked at Faye and temptingly said, "another round please."

II-II II-II II-II

Spike felt pulsations running through his head. He tried to open his eyes but he could barely lift his eyelids. He blinked twice before managing to focus his sight. The first thing he noticed was the ceiling. It was unfamiliar, a foul pink in color. He glanced to his right. The walls were covered with dull floral designs of purple and red. He didn't need to look to his left. He could hear Faye breathing calmly besides him. Spike sat up slowly as he tried not to wake her. The springs of the mattress squeaked a little.

He sighed silently and turned to see her. He looked at her effortlessly. Her back was towards him. Faye was on the other side of the bed, completely away from him. She held the white sheet pulled over her chest but her back remained completely exposed. He followed the curve of her spine until the sheets covered her body. Then, he traced the rest of her, knowing exactly how her body looked even if it was almost lost in the creases and folds of the pale sheets.

But something didn't feel right. He forced his gaze away from her. The comforter was on the floor. Their clothes were spread out over the worn green carpet. He spotted his shirt just a few inches beside the door. But his coat was next to the bed. The key of the room was on a table near the door. The lamp on the table was balancing on its side, nearly falling.

Faye stirred; he glanced at her once and looked away again. After a few minutes, her back was still towards him, but he would tell she was no longer asleep. Her breathing had become thin and at times irregular. But she finally sat up. She moved very slowly and kept the sheet securely held over her body. Her hair fell over her face. She carefully placed it behind her ear. Then her hand slid over her neck. It became motionless before it moved away and clutched the white sheet even closer to her. Spike's sight fell on the nape of her neck, on the bruise on her skin. Faye became aware of this, and once again moved her hair, positioning it as it had been. She didn't say anything. He couldn't speak. His ears were buzzing. His chest felt shallow and tight.

He sat on the edge of the bed. His back towards her. He heard Faye's heavy breath before she moved again. She took the upper sheet of the blankets away and wrapped herself with it. He looked back at her as she walked into the bathroom. The door closed and he heard the shower curtain being drawn. Then he heard a slight dripping of water. Faye cursed angrily.

The water started picking up and he heard her step in. He could hear the sound of the rushing water dripping away from her body or hitting the cold tiles. His neck felt stiff and his back hurt. Spike stretched, still sitting. He winced. His skin stung. He carefully ran his hand over his back. His fingers moved slowly over lines of dried blood and torn skin. He took his hand away.

He didn't shift at all from where he was. His head was aching. He couldn't think.

The water in the shower stopped running. Moments later, Faye stepped out of the bathroom. She wore two towels, one covering her body and the other wrapping her hair. Her skin was flushed and drops of water were rolling down her body. Spike turned away from her. Even if she appeared to be provoking him, he knew otherwise. Her eyes were vague. He knew it too. It felt odd, like something was missing or had gone wrong. Neither was able to put anything into words. The silence was antagonizing. But right now it was the safer choice compared to spitting out words that could easily lead to something worse. As it was, the atmosphere was heavy and awkward.

"Spike," Faye said uneasily. She quietly cleared her throat and continued, "We need to checkout."

He glanced at the clock and nodded. He couldn't trust his voice at the moment. Faye began to pick up her clothes from the floor. He got out of bed and showered. There was barely enough soap left for him to use, but the water was still boiling hot.

When he came out, his clothes were off of the floor and on the bed. Faye was still there. She was sitting on the bed about to put her shoes on. She didn't turn to see him and her reaction, or rather lack of, appeared to be strained. He dried himself up and changed quickly. Even after he was fully clothed, Faye didn't face him. He was slipping his shoes on when Faye sat up from the bed. She walked to the table, picked up the keys, and sat the lamp down correctly. Spike walked towards the door, she opened it and they walked down to the office together.

The person working the office was a friendly old woman. Spike guessed she was the owner of the motel and was somehow trying to keep the business alive. They turned in the key and left the building. He wondered how long Faye would stay besides him, but it didn't take very long for him to find out. As soon as they had stepped out of the building she spoke.

"I need to take care of a few things," she said hastily. Faye turned to him and stared directly into his eyes.

"Okay," he said. As he had expected, his voice sounded odd. He ignored it and instead returned Faye's intense gaze. They couldn't look away from each other for a moment. They turned away and walked in opposing directions. The wind blew gently over the streets and lifted the white dust and dead leaves.

II-II II-II II-II

The water was falling steadily from the sky. The droplets clung to the windows and rolled down as they merged with others. The streets were grey. How many times had he looked out the window now? He strolled back to the yellow couch and sat down. He turned the television on. The news were on the weather section. It only showed more signs of rain for the afternoon. He frowned.

A little after eight, he finally heard the door to the Bebop being opened. He heard her heels coming off and the sound of her feet on the metal. When he could hear near enough, he got up from the couch and faced her. Her hair was wet and clinging to her skin. Her shirt had become slightly transparent and her clothes hung tightly over her body. The water dripping away from her fell on the ground. She didn't appear bothered by her condition. She was looking directly at Spike's eyes.

"Last night…I—can't remember much," Faye said.

His chest felt strange. But Spike couldn't hold it against her. He also hadn't been able to remember everything. He'd been able to recall a lot, but there were parts that had been completely erased. He didn't remember how they got to the room or what happened afterwards. And he also didn't remember little things, like the instant the scratches had been carved on his back. What bothered him the most though, was that he could only remember the actions and not how anything felt. His memories were like a part of television programming, full of images and sound, but no actual sentiment.

Faye licked her lips, trying to force more words out but obviously failing.

"Jet called," he unwillingly changed the subject after seeing her struggle. "He said that he'll be back soon."

"Did he say when?" she responded with ease.

"Tomorrow night…" he answered. She appeared relieved, but the expression was only momentary. Spike felt the same way. Avoiding this; it was very fatiguing. Even if being apart seemed to be the only way they could deal with each other, every time, it stopped working more and more. "I'm going out," he said looking past her.

"It's raining," she noted, her voice still casual.

"It didn't stop you," he said. She didn't argue. He took a step away from her and she didn't move either.

He walked to his room to, at the very least, take a coat with him. He closed the door as soon as he'd stepped in. He picked the coat up from his bed, where he'd carelessly forgotten it in the morning, and put it on. As he stretched his arms to place them into the sleeves, he felt the skin of his back stretch and the scratches burn. He flinched a little. He picked up his cigarettes and lighter from the table next to his bed. He didn't bother to button up his coat. He opened the door and gave a step out.

Faye was standing there.

She stared at him, her eyes clearly revealing her frustration. He looked at her with the same face. At some point, she'd taken a hold of his shoulder, almost as to prevent him from walking away.

"Let's just admit it," he said surprisingly calm, "you don't want me around right now."

She thought about it, but didn't respond. So much for hoping she'd disagree. Spike looked at her and felt the pressure of her hand against his body. It felt strange being so close to her, like her cold hand was burning his skin, even through his coat and shirt. He took a step back.

"You never make things any easier," she said after seeing him move. "I can't change last night. If you're around it's…If you leave, it's a mistake." Spike looked away from her eyes. The neck of her shirt wasn't pulled up and he could easily spot the kiss mark on her neck.

He looked at her again. Spike didn't understand what she meant. He was tired of trying to reason out her thoughts. Tired of trying to understand something he clearly didn't. And in spite of whether his opinion mattered or not, he said, "What do you want?"

Faye looked taken aback. "I—" she began indecisively. He looked at her waiting for a response. He didn't think that keeping his eyes so focused on her helped any, but he didn't want to look away either. She finally said, "I want you to stop thinking you can only run away."

"Me?" he smirked, amused by her response. "Who's the one that's been evading me? Just this morning—"

"—This morning. Yes! I know!" she said harshly, "But what about now? You're the one that's leaving…I'm so exhausted of this." Spike tried to speak, but she interrupted him. "Do you have any idea how many times I'd told myself I couldn't stand you anymore! That you just tempt me because you have nothing better to do? That you don't give a damn anyway…I can't understand anything because I never know when you're serious!" She stopped herself, aware of how caught up she had become. She breathed heavily. Her eyes were intense. A drop of water slid down a strand of her hair and fell down on her pressed, pale lips.

Why was it only he that was the problem? What about her? Did she consider how much she distressed him? He'd only acted so uncertain towards her because her actions always made him doubt. Always pulling him in before withdrawing herself. He should have listened to his iron cold reasoning instead of his stupid emotions. Instead of that placid feeling he got anytime she looked only at him. The warmth of her skin. The oddly exciting tranquility of being with her…

"I am," he said bluntly.

After the words left his lips, he felt lighter and was able to wait patiently for Faye to say something. But she didn't. Instead, she barely placed her hands on his face and carefully moved nearer to him. Her fingertips felt cool against his face, but her breath was warm. He watched her closely. Their lips were almost touching. He wanted to lean forward and meet her. To taste her again and actually remember the sensation of it. But he did nothing. It'd always been him who touched her; at least this time, he needed to know it was what she wanted. He stood there, hands clenched in pockets.

Her hands dropped to his shoulders and she lowered herself. Spike felt her head slightly resting on his chest. The cool water from her hair crossed the fabric of his shirt and touched his skin. He breathed evenly, but felt perplexed. He wasn't aware of when his palpitations had stopped or when the strange feeling that someone was tearing his chest apart appeared. Faye did not move away, but neither did she move any closer. Her hands slowly lifted from his shoulders. His hands left his pockets simultaneously, but remained motionless at his sides.

"I must be crazy to do this…," she whispered.

He barely heard her through the sound of the rain beating down on the roof of the Bebop. She ran her hands through his hair and inched closer again. This time, her actions weren't made with the superficiality of her last attempt. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed herself against him. Her breath and lips lingered lightly on his skin. Spike's pulse suddenly regained momentum. His hands barely touched her back. Spike felt her cold lips on his. One of his arms circled her waist and the other found its place behind her neck. Her lips gradually became warmer, unwilling to accept rejection. The contact wasn't anything like the night before or any of their other little games. Whenever she touched him, he wanted more from her. And every time it became worse…Had he become addicted to her?

With his arms around her, he was able to feel how cold Faye's body really was. He slightly pulled away from her, creating just enough space between the two so he could speak. "You should have done that first." He hated the way his voice made it obvious that he'd wanted her that badly. She laughed silently. But he continued to speak, "You shouldn't be so careless either, now you're going to get sick."

"And what about you," she said taking a small step back, "you're all cold and wet too."

"And whose fault is that…" Spike responded. "You should take responsibility since now we both need to get out of these clothes and warmed up." Faye looked taken aback a little. Spike thought about his words again and noticed the ever so light blush creeping over her face. Realizing this, he smiled at her mischievously. "What are you thinking about, Faye."

"Shut up," she said, her hand landing on his chest. "I feel bad enough as is?"

"Why?" he asked.

"I've been freaking cold all day long, that's why!" she said irritated.

Spike didn't realize what possessed him to do it, but he took a step closer to Faye and wrapped his arms around her. He held her close to his body. Both of her hands were on his chest and she hid her face on the cloth of his shirt. She felt so cold and damp against his body. He swallowed before speaking, "this…is fine now, right?"

"Yeah," she said quietly.

Her body was still shivering in his arms. He lifted her chin up and tasted her mouth again. Her arms slowly encircled his torso underneath his coat. After a while, Spike's chest throbbed and he could feel the beating of Faye's heart through their immediacy. He couldn't hear the rain over the sound of his pulse and their heavy breathing. His skin was burning and Faye's touch finally felt warm. Their bodies were locked together and had slowly moved from the hallway to his room.

"Close the door," she whispered in between balmy breaths.

"No one else is he—" he tried to speak but Faye caught his lips again. Arguing was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He tore one of his hands away from her body and pushed the door shut.

II-II II-II II-II

His left hand lay lightly over her abdomen, feeling the soft skin move to the pace of her breathing. Her head was resting on his arm and her hands gently held his right hand. Her hair lay carelessly over his skin. Spike woke up but didn't move. He could hear the sprinkling of the rain thump softly on the roof. Or was that his pulse? It felt like it was still too early. He lazily opened his eyes to look at Faye. This was the third time he woke up next to her. The first time he'd ever shared that bed with someone. He closed his eyes, inched closer to her, and fell asleep again.

After a few hours, their rest was broken. Spike's communicator began to ring endlessly. He tried to ignore it, but its tone was more annoying than an alarm clock. They stirred and shifted position. Faye pulled the blankets over her eyes.

"Hurry up and pick up already," she said displeased.

Spike was still tired. "You answer, it's closer to you," he replied thoughtlessly.

"I'm not going to answer your call," Faye said. She moved away from him so he would be able to reach for the communicator.

Spike yawned as he sat up. Since the communicator was sitting on the table beside Faye, he reached over her body. She had closed her eyes already and was about to fall asleep again. He let the weight of his body fall on her.

She groaned as she tried to shove him away, "Get off of me. You're too heavy."

He purposely remained as he was. His fingertips managed to draw the communicator closer and he picked up. It was still ringing. "Hello," he answered. Hearing this, Faye stopped struggling to move him away.

"You sound asleep," Jet said. The communicator's noise was too loud and it was easy for Faye to hear.

"I was. At least until you so graciously woke me up," Spike said sarcastically.

"It's too late to be sleeping," Jet said.

"It's only…," Spike glanced at the clock, "seven thirteen…Are you aware of how early it is?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Listen, I need you to do something. One of the parts I went to pick up got sold to someone. I figured out who it was and I need you to go get it."

"Sure, I'll take care of it later."

"You don't want to take too long, with it being Monday, the people will all be going out to restock. If you don't hurry up, you'll get there and it will be too crowded."

"Yeah, I get it," Spike answered displeased.

"Is Faye around?" Jet asked.

Spike looked down at Faye and smirked. "Yeah, she's here," he said. Faye managed to somehow elbow his stomach. He tried not to grunt and said, "Do you want to talk to her?"

"Nah," Jet answered. "She wrote the address down but I asked her to wait until I made sure it was the correct one. Anyway, ask her to give it to you."

"Is that all?"

"Yeah that's it." Jet said, "I'll see you later."

"Alright." Spike ended the call and sat the communicator down on the table again.

"Are you going to get off of me now? I'm not a pillow you know," Faye said as soon as he'd ended the transmission.

"Fine," he said languidly as he sat up. But if anything, now she was also awake. She sat up next to him. He looked at Faye and kissed her once before saying, "Let's get up and eat something before heading out."

"That's sound good," she said stepping out of the bed. "But just so you know, I'm not going to be the one cooking."

They left his room and headed for the kitchen to make some breakfast. As Faye had promised, she didn't get near the stove and it was Spike who ended up making most of their meal. He wasn't an excellent cook, but he'd be willing to bet that eating his cooking was safer than Faye's. It took longer than they had expected since they couldn't find much of anything to eat. In the end, Spike made some scrambled eggs and bacon. Faye took care of the toast and coffee. They talked a lot too. Maybe that was why it was taking forever to leave. After they had gotten ready and walked out of the Bebop, it was already past ten.

It wasn't raining anymore. The streets looked clean and the wind smelled like fresh dirt. Faye lightly smiled as soon as they began walking down the street. "I like rain," she said. "Don't you think it makes things look better once it stops?"

Spike looked around the streets and up at the clearing sky before responding. She was right. The streets that had always been dusty looked pleasant. The cement of the sidewalk and buildings was cool. The color of everything was intensified by the dampness of the water. Even the dirt looked much brighter. He hadn't seen earth like that before. "I guess," he answered.

They continued to walk quietly after that. The amount of people on the streets gradually increased. Until finally, Spike and Faye found themselves stuck in the middle of the market district. It was loud. There were carts and stations set on every side of the street. The smell of ripe and rotten fruit mixed together in the air. Some men were on a corner drinking. There were small children running around everywhere being followed closely by their mothers. A small boy strayed away from his mother. The boy ran towards Spike's direction, he tried to move out of the way, but the kid used him as a hiding place instead. Spike tried to move away, but the child had taken a hold of the back of his legs. Spike waited for the kid's mother to come and take him away.

Faye laughed.

"You shouldn't have taken so long getting ready," Spike told her as they tried to make their way around. Someone cut through them and Faye fell behind. He waited for her to catch up.

"I wouldn't have taken so long if you'd just—" A man had bumped against her and she stumbled forward but she regained herself quickly. "You should have listened to Jet."

Spike looked at the street trying to locate the right direction. "There usually isn't this many people around…" He tried to remember the street name again, but through all the bustling, he kept forgetting part of it. "Where was it we're going again?"

Faye read the address. Spike sighed deeply. He didn't remember seeing that street before. He looked back to see if Faye was still behind him. She was only a step away; her sight was slightly following the intertwined hands of a couple. She realized Spike's gaze was on her and looked away.

Almost like if reading his mind she said, "I know, it's not polite to stare. Did you figure out where we need to go?"

"Not yet," he answered. He looked back at Faye.

It was nice to understand her again.

Spike knew why her eyes had been so focused on the other couple's hands. They could do that now too. But it would probably be awkward. Being in front of so many people, actually looking like they were together. It was weird. He didn't know whether he could do it, even if he wanted to be closer to her. So they continued to walk for several minutes, stopping when one got left behind, rushing when one got ahead. Several times, they reached for each other until the gap had closed, but their hands never remained together very long. Moving along that way was very tiring and time consuming.

After several minutes of endlessly trudging through the street, Spike and Faye reached an intersection. They stopped walking and stood still trying to figure out which of the roads was correct. They stood very close to each other; the sides of their hands almost touching. The people around them kept moving, uninterestingly aware of their existence.

"Where do we go from here?" Faye said, looking carefully at the streets ahead. He felt the light touch of her skin on his hand as she waited for his answer.

"I don't know." Spike said. He didn't know how, or what possessed him to do it. But his fingers reached out for Faye's hand. He felt the gentle warmth of her touch as she locked their fingers together. "Let's just keep going and see where this leads us."

He took a step forward and walked through the crowd. It was easier to move this way. Whenever he had a hard time getting through, Faye found a way to keep them moving. The wind blew gently and lifted the tarps of the stands. The combination of the people's voices echoed in the streets. Spike found the name of the street and nodded in the direction of the sign. They left the street and walked into the worn building. Though it was no longer necessary, he didn't release her. Her hand in his. It just felt right.

MMN—Fin—NMM

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