Tears and Cherries [Cowboy Bebop]
Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2003 6:50 pm
Warning: Adult language and situations within. Very much on the citrusy side so proceed with caution. Rated NC-17 for sexual situations, language, and prostitution. Spike/Faye. Takes place two years after the end of the series.
Tears and Cherries
The bar was dark, they all were, but in this one the shadows seemed almost tangible. Like they would suddenly take shape before her eyes, swallow her whole. Perhaps they already had. Did it matter? No, she decided, it didn?t matter. Nothing did. Except for money. Her whole world revolved around it. When had it become so small, so wilted? Her vision had once included places, people, whose names she now kept locked tightly inside. When had her world shrunk to the flash of gold in dim light? When had she become so empty?
She knew the answers to all these questions, of course. Asking them was only a sort of ritualistic torture she put herself through when she was feeling particularly low. Remembering would only bring her flashes of happiness and that she could not allow. She didn?t deserve happiness. She was an ugly, selfish bitch, empty of everything except a hollow sadness. Only angels deserve happiness, and she was no angel.
She was nothing.
Everyone thought so and so she did to. They believed it and so she believed it also. After hearing the words so many times, she could not longer resist them. She was nothing, and she knew it. Perhaps she had not always been so, perhaps there had been a time in her life when someone cared what happened to her, but not now. She was alone, utterly and completely. Except for him.
He was not a companion or a partner. Nothing so close as that. Those relationships implied trust, even affection, none of which she felt. He was her master, where before there had been none. He possessed her, in every sense of the word. She belonged to him, a slave to his whim, rewarded with the only thing that still spoke to her. Money. It was not such a bad life, she deluded herself. She had money and a roof over her head, what more could a girl ask for? Not for happiness, that was for sure. In the end, all their was was survival. If she could make it through another day, that was all she could ask out of life. Why didn?t she just give up? Let death wrap its icy arms around her? She could not. There was no reason just, she couldn?t. She didn?t know why.
So she went on living, but a pale echo of who she used to be. Had she once been vibrant and beautiful? She thought she vaguely remembered the emotions, but she couldn?t drag them up. The shadows had swallowed them, as they had swallowed everything, even herself.
?Faye.?
She glanced up from her seat a the bar, plucking the cigarette from her crimson lips with a detached air. Her green eyes, no longer emerald, no long shining, met Michael?s a few feet away. He stepped closer, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards a table in the back of the room, where the smoke was the most dense. His breath smelled of beer as he leaned close to her, his voice raspy. Almost, one would think he was a drunken fool, a creature of the Mars underworld, but one would be wrong. He was intelligent, dangerously so, with a mind as quick as his trigger finger. Her master was anything but weak, and hardly ever drunk. That was for her customers.
?The man in the corner, in black. He makes a pretty good offer,? he said, his gaze on Faye?s face. She looked over his shoulder.
?How much?? That was all that mattered.
?1,000 for the night.?
Faye?s eyes narrowed but then she shrugged. Who was she to question? If the guy was willing to pay that much, what did she care for his reasons? Michael?s eyes held a greedy glint as he looked her up and down, gauging her appearance. She stood still, letting him have a look, she already knew what he would see. A petite woman with an almost frail appearance from too few meals and too little sleep. A full figure but not as full as it had been, her mind showed her, showed off by the short, black leather skirt that showed a great deal of her pale thighs and the black tank top that criss-crossed in the back, showing off more of her smooth skin. Her silky black hair almost reached her shoulders, unadorned, thought she could remember wearing a headband at one point in her meaningless life. Her face was a masterpiece of makeup, smoky eye shadow rimmed her eyes, making them large and almost innocent, her lips painted a red that spoke of danger and mystery. She was the perfect image of a woman for hire, which was half the reason she never lacked for jobs. The other half, the half she didn?t know, was that is was the very hidden innocence in her sorrowful expression that drew men to her like moths to the flame. There was too little innocence in the world as it was, and if they could find it in her, a whore, than so be it. There were crazier things.
Michael pinched her breast through her shirt. ?You?ll do, I guess.? He slapped her behind as she stood, straightening her skirt. ?Go to it. You know where to find me in the morning.?
She nodded and walked away from him, crossing the stained wooden floor towards the man in the corner, putting a sway in her walk that came like second nature. When she ended up only a foot away, he stood and she got her first look at him. Not that it mattered. He could have been a walking mummy and she still would have smiled at him, led him temptingly up to her room above the bar. After all, she had debts to pay, she didn?t have time to be picky.
In a blur the door closed, a signal for her start. She did, closing her mind off and allowing her seasoned responses to take over. He never knew as she allowed him to rid her of her clothes while ridding him of his. He never knew as she laid herself down on her bed, her slim body calling to him. He never knew as his hands touched her, his tongue filling her mouth with some intense need seeking to be filled. He never knew as he plunged inside her, raging against his own demons, the world. He never knew as her body betrayed her and she arched against him, her eyes shut in denial. He never knew as he collapsed, spent, his body crushing her as she lay sweaty in the sheets, her vacant green eyes focused unblinking on the ceiling over his shoulder.
He never knew?that she was already gone.
* * * *
The morning came, the same as every other day. She awoke alone as usual, feeling dirty and ugly. She slid from the ruined sheets with a grace she didn?t feel and padded naked into her bathroom, closing the door to block out the world. The mornings after were always the hardest. Memories would rush at her, clamoring to be let in. The feel of his hands on her would come back, clearer than the actual moment had been, making her nauseous. And it was the same, every morning. A ritual she had long since gotten used to and barely blinked at anymore.
She turned the shower on as hot as it would go and stepped in, hardly aware as the water scalded her fair skin. She only wanted to be clean again. She shampooed her hair, letting the soap suds slide down her body, before rinsing once more and turning the shower head off. She stood still for a moment, water dripping off the end of her hair and beading on skin. The memories came for her.
<i>What are you doing, Faye?
I?m leaving, Jett, what the hell does it look like?
It looks like you?re running away.
There?s nothing left for me to run away from. </i>
She squeezed her eyes shut, blotting out the voices. She didn?t want to hear them, not now. They were too painful, they made her heart ache in her chest and robbed her lungs of air. Besides, that was two years ago, it was in the past. And someone had once told her she couldn?t live in the past.
Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Without makeup she almost recognized herself in the depths of her own eyes. With her hair disheveled and her gaze clear, she really did look like a child. A lonely child made of grief.
<i>I?m not going there to die, Faye. I?m going to find out if I?m alive? </i>
She whimpered, hands over her temples as if she could somehow block out his voice. Tears she hadn?t cried since that moment two years ago leaked out of the corners of her tightly closed lids. Bonelessly, she dropped to the floor, her knees hitting the wooden planks with a muffled thud. She hunched over, trying to hide.
?Please,? she whispered, anguished, ?Please, no more. Leave me alone.? His image appeared in her mind?s eye and she sobbed aloud. Would he never let her be? Would she never be free of him? Even dead, he haunted her still. Suddenly angry, she wiped away her tears and stood, looking into the mirror with determination. ?Spike, just let me go.? Her lower lip trembled and she bit it, ?Just let me go, there?s no point in this anymore. You?re dead and I?m alive.? A harsh laugh escaped her throat, almost startling her. It was more real than she was. ?Barely.?
Taking a deep breath, she settled herself, banishing his memory to the back of her mind. She had money to collect.
* * * *
She descended the back stairs in her usual attire and entered the bar, ignoring the shadows as she collected her pay from Michael, minus his cut and the percent due to her creditors. Slipping it into her handbag quickly, she hurried out into the sunshine, blinking against the sudden light. The hustle and bustle of the city hit her like a wave and she looked around, finding herself engulfed in the crowd, just one more person on a person-filled street. It was nice, the feeling of anonymity. She was still nothing, but so was everyone else.
She turned to the right and started walking, almost content with the sun kissing her skin. It was ruined slightly by the hot looks from passing males, the jealous looks from passing females. For the most part, she ignored them. She had gotten the same looks from the moment of her awakening, they meant nothing. Men had always desired her and women had always envied her. Now, she happened to use those feelings to stay alive.
She reached the marketplace quickly, reeling with all the delicious smells. She hadn?t eaten since yesterday morning and she suddenly felt light-headed at the prospect of food. She had a small kitchen in her apartment which she hardly ever used, but now that she had some money she could buy some groceries for herself. Grinning with a devilish glee, she picked up a bag of rice and a basket of vegetables, along with a small bag of cherries. They were one of her favorite foods and a complete indulgence, but her spirits needed lifting so she allowed herself a couple as she made her way back. Near the bar, she stopped for a pack of cigarettes and a new lighter, before entering the alleyways that would take her back to the only place she had to call home. Abruptly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of green hair and she stilled, every muscle turning to stone. She knew it was just her imagination but she couldn?t help the sudden racing of her heart. She had sworn she had seen him a dozen times, a flicker of brown eyes here, a familiar silhouette there, his face in the blackness behind her eyelids. It was all just in her mind, a part of her former life that had never really ended. Still, knowing all that didn?t stop her from turning to look and her eyes widened as her green gaze fell on the one man who could break her into a thousand pieces with one word. He must have felt her stare, for he turned and their eyes locked, his mismatched eyes showing his surprise. He was exactly the same, dressed in that stupid suit of his, his hair as unruly as ever, his face?there was more sadness there than before but she couldn?t see it. She was blind to anything but the simple fact that he was there, standing in her street, looking too damn handsome for his own good.
For a moment, drowning in his eyes, she was just Faye Valentine again, the shrew bounty hunter who shot first and asked questions later. She could fight with the best of them and her looks had always gotten her what she wanted.
Her looks?
Reality came crashing back and she made a small sound in her throat, like a wounded animal. She did the only thing she could do in her situation.
She turned and fled.
* * * *
He couldn?t believe it. It was Faye. Faye. She looked so different, standing there in the street all in black, her green eyes large in her pretty face. He had never expected to see anyone he knew here, never expected to find her. Hell, he hadn?t wanted to see anyone, and yet, now that he had, something clicked into place and he couldn?t let her go. So, when she turned and ran, he did the only thing he could do in his situation.
He went after her.
He really didn?t know what he was thinking. He had spent two years trying to get away from all the memories, away from the pain. He knew he was running and he didn?t care. He left everything behind to start again on his home planet, becoming a single man in a mass of people. He told himself that it was best this way, breaking all his ties. Jett and the others would forget about him in time. Apparently though, the Bebop crew had gone their separate ways after he left, which sparked a small feeling of guilt within him. Why was she here all alone? What was she doing?
?Damn it, stop running!? he shouted after her, which only caused her to quicken her pace. He growled under his breath and pushed past people, not bothering to offer apologies as they cursed him. He caught up with her in an alleyway and grabbed her arm, pulling her backwards. The packages she had been carrying fell to the street and she turned to face him, tears glittering in her eyes. He was taken aback instantly. She was crying. Faye was crying. He remembered seeing her in tears only once before and the memory itself made him uncomfortable. Faye didn?t cry.
She pulled against his hold on her wrist, upset. ?Please, you?re dead, just leave me alone.? He frowned, her words only making him tighten his grip. What was wrong with her?
?Faye, I?m not dead, I?m right h? ?
She moaned and tried to free herself. ?No, you?re not, you left! You left!? Her voice had risen to a shout, the sound reminding him of their fiery arguments aboard the Bebop. As before, he lost patience. He released her wrist only to grab her shoulders and pin her against the wall of alleyway, holding her there so that he could look at her. She turned her head away, tears falling to his feet.
?That?s right, I left,? he said, his voice low and dangerous, ?I left, and so did you, but I survived.? She trembled under his fingers and his brow furrowed. What was wrong with her? ?I survived,? he repeated more gently, ?did you??
She didn?t respond and he shook her, frustrated and, if he cared to admit it to himself, more than a little worried. Where was the spirited little spitfire that had saved his neck more than a couple times?
Where was Faye Valentine?
For surely this woman was not her. This broken, tearful female that?that?seemed so lost. He sighed, cursing himself. He shouldn?t have gotten involved. He should have let her run away. She had changed and, in truth, so had he, but as usual, he was unable to bury the past. Unable to bury her face when it appeared in his dreams.
?Faye, what?s going on here??
Beneath his palms, Faye tensed and he released her, one hand automatically reaching for the gun hidden at his belt. A man stood at the alleyway entrance, clean shaven with blonde hair and brown eyes. His eyes flashed dangerously at Spike.
?Is this man hurting you??
Faye straightened from the wall, breath coming shakily in her throat. She glanced warily at Spike, almost afraid of him, before kneeling and gathering up her packages with quick fingers.
?I?m fine, Michael. We were just?talking.? She left, hurrying to this Michael?s side as he could only watch, wondering what was going on. As Faye neared him, the golden-haired man reached out and put an arm around her waist possessively with a smirk in Spike?s direction. Spike felt a stab of jealously pierce his heart before blinking, surprised at his reaction. What did he care if Faye had a boyfriend? He had only wanted to speak with her and she had acted as if he had come to collect a bounty on her. To hell with the woman.
?I?m glad you realized you were alive, Spike,? she told him softly, as Michael led her away, ?but things have changed. You should just leave.? And with that, she left him, striding away, shoulders hunched as if she had been defeated in a war he wasn?t aware of.
He closed his eyes briefly, wondering if the whole world had gone mad, before turning on his heel and walking away, hands in his pockets. If she wanted him to go, he would. He didn?t need her.
He never had.
* * * *
She busied herself in her kitchen. If she kept moving, she couldn?t think, and if she couldn?t think, she wouldn?t think about him.
?Damn,? she hissed, realizing that method wasn?t working. The more she thought about not thinking about him, the more she thought about him, and the more miserable she became. Growling, she flung the knife she had been using to cut vegetable into the wood of the doorway, watching with a grim satisfaction as the hilt vibrated from the force of her throw. Then she stopped, realizing what she had just done. She hadn?t used a knife or a gun for that matter as a weapon in a long time. Those had been put away along with everything having to do with the bounty hunter, Faye Valentine.
And yet?
Since seeing Spike in the street, she had felt more in those few hours than in the last two years combined. Sure, the topmost emotion was anger, but it was still something. Why did he always do this to her? She was afraid of him now, afraid of the look on his face if he learned what she had become. It had been close in the alleyway, and to protect him, and herself, she had sent him away. She was no longer the proud, independent woman he had known. She had had to survive and it had changed her. Survival always changed everything.
?It?s better this way, Spike,? she told herself, ?Really, it is. I won?t be hurt again, and neither will you.?
?Hey, babe.?
She turned, surprised, to find a man in her doorway. He was tall and broad across the shoulders, his hair and eyes darker than night. She had never seen him before, and suddenly, the look on his face made her wish she still had the knife in her hand. She gripped the counter top.
?Who are you? What do you want?? she asked, sharply, uncomfortable with the fact that he had just waltzed into her room. He chuckled, raising goosebumps on her skin.
?Michael sent me up, said you wanted to see me.? He took a step forward, the door closing behind him with a click that seemed almost final. She frowned, it wasn?t like Michael to secure jobs without telling her, but then again, there could be a million reasons he had done so. Maybe the guy was in a hurry and willing to pay a butt load. If that was the case, there was nothing she could do.
Swallowing a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair and straightened, turning so that the guy could get a good look at her. You sure do know your stuff, Faye Valentine, her angry inner voice seethed. You know exactly how to make a man think he?s a god. On the outside she put on a pouty smile as the stranger walked forward. His hand reached out and pulled her to him, his hands rough as he clamped down on her waist, his mouth sucking greedily on her neck. She blinked, not really used to such treatment, usually Michael had an eye for men who wouldn?t damage his goods. Bruised women did not catch customers. Well, maybe this one liked it rough.
Her anxiety level rose, though, when she moved to unbutton his shirt. He tensed and suddenly pushed her backwards onto the bed, a feral look in his eyes. She frowned, fear and anger warring within her. What was with this guy? As she watched, eyes wide, he flung his shirt to the side and lowered himself on top of her, straddling her hips. She grunted, his weight too much for her small frame but before she could suggest a change of position, his mouth had clamped down on hers and she suddenly felt very sick. His tongue choked her even as he hands ripped her tank top down the front, bringing a gasp from her. Immediately, his hands began to knead her bare breasts forcefully, something like a groan coming from his throat. She squirmed under him and turned her head to break the kiss, overwhelmed.
?Too hard,? she said breathlessly, wincing at the pain he inflicted, ?Gently, big guy.?
He reeled back, ?Shut up, bitch!? His hand slapped across her face, turning her head clear to the left. The anger that had been quietly simmering beneath the surface ever since Spike?s appearance exploded.
?Listen, mister, I don?t know what you were expecting, but you can?t? ?
His hands went to her throat, cutting off her air as her hands curled around his wrists, vainly trying to pull him away. Her eyes went wide as he bent down, his horrible breath washing over her.
?You?ve made a lot of enemies, Faye Valentine. Did you think you could hide here, forever?? She choked, suddenly realizing the truth. Michael had never sent this guy. ?I was sent to collect the bounty on your pretty little head,? His eyes wandered down her half-naked figure, ?but I think I?ll have a little fun before I drag your ass in.? He grinned and her anger ran ice cold, crystallizing into fear as he released her neck and pinned her arms over her head with one hand, his heavily muscled torso making it possible to keep her stationary. His free hand went to his belt buckle and she felt the icy fingers of dread work their way up her spine. She would not let it go this way. It was different when it was with a customer. The choice was always hers, she could decline if she wished, though she would be letting a paycheck walk out the door. This was just?rape, and she refused to be a victim.
Taking a deep breath she screamed with all her strength, only realizing how futile it was when the bounty hunter laughed.
?Scream my name, Valentine, no one cares here.? He bent down and kissed her, making her stomach turn. She struggled, attempting to raise her leg to knee him in the back, but he simply sat down heavily on her hips, instantly stilling any movement. She was helpless.
She hated being helpless.
Tears escaped the corner of her eyes and dripped onto the sheets. She cried out as the bounty hunter kicked off his pants, his bulge clear. She cried out again, terrified.
The door splintered inward.
With the force of a powerful kick, it exploded completely, debris scattering on the floor. She raised her head, startled, and the bounty hunter turned to see who it was. Against every wish in her heart except one, Spike stood in the doorway, his face set, rage flashing in his eyes, his gun pointed at the floor.
?Buzz off, pal,? the bounty hunter said savagely, ?Find your own entertainment. This one?s mine.?
Spike raised his gun.
?No,? he said quite calmly, ?She?s mine.?
And he fired.
* * * *
She jerked at the sound of the shot and cried out as the huge bounty hunter collapsed on top of her, a bullet in his forehead. His wide, unseeing eyes stared directly into hers and she screamed, this last fright simply too much for her to handle. In an instant, the guy was ripped away, Spike standing by the bedside, leaving her free to breathe. She sat up gingerly, crossing her arms over her chest, her gaze directed anywhere but at the man she had once loved. She could not believe he had seen her like this. What must he think of her?
?Faye,? his voice was soft, but she flinched, and after a moment, he shrugged out of his jacket and tucked it around her almost tenderly. Forgetting herself, she glanced up at him, pulling the fabric closed, and their gazes locked, green and brown, emerald and amber. He still radiated leashed fury but his face was gentle as he looked at her.
?I don?t understand,? she stuttered, ?why?why are you??? <i>?being so nice? </i>
He shook his head, ?It?s doesn?t matter. Not yet.? He glanced at the door. ?Come on, Faye, you?re coming with me.? She blinked, too many surprises hitting her at once.
?What?? she managed faintly. He holstered his gun and went to her closet to begin pulling out clothes and throwing them on the bed.
?You?re coming with me.?
She tried to process this. ?I?I can?t, I work here now. If I just left, Michael would?? He came to the bed, a new tank top in his hands. She looked up at him, out of sorts.
?I don?t care, Faye,? he said evenly, handing the top to her. She took it numbly. ?You?re not staying here. Not anymore.? He stood there then, watching her, and she realized she was supposed to be dressing. Her fingers wouldn?t move, she had no energy, shock was the only thing she felt. Spike seemed to realize this and he bent down, taking the top back from her quietly. Then, holding her eyes with his own, he pulled his jacket away. She shivered but he did not break their locked stare, even when he slipped her arms through the straps, as if he felt the need to prove himself to her. It wasn?t necessary, she already trusted him, always had. It?s what made her vulnerable.
He pulled the tank top down to her waist, his large hands brushing her sides like butterfly wings. He blinked at the contact but when she showed no reaction he straightened and dropped his jacket around her shoulders again, as if it could still offer some meager protection. She gripped the edges of it, watching him like a child to see what else he would do. He brought out a bag from the closet and stuffed her clothes in it, being thoughtful enough to grab her make up bag from the bathroom sink. He even packed some of the food she had bought that morning, including the cherries, slinging the bag over his shoulder when he was finished. He glanced at her and then offered her his hand, ignoring the dead man that lay only a few feet away.
?You?re in shock, Faye, but you have to believe me, I won?t let anything happen to you.? His hand stayed out, inviting her.
<i>But, Spike, who will protect me from you?</i>
She slipped her small hand into his, unable to speak her thoughts, her voice locked. She saw him relax slightly and he pulled her up, steadying her as she tried to get her legs to hold her weight. When she was ready, they left her room, never glancing back. He helped her down the stairs and into the bar, where Michael looked up, his brows knitting as he saw who was with her. He strode to her side.
?Faye, what are you doing? Who is this man?? he asked darkly. Faye opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Spike spoke instead.
?I?m afraid I?m taking this young woman,? he said smoothly, making sure the man saw his gun. ?She?s an outlaw and if there?s one, there?s always more. I don?t want to have to come back here, you get my meaning??
Michael frowned. ?You?re a cop??
Spike shifted his weight, suddenly becoming more dangerous. ?That?s right, bub, and if you don?t want us crawling all over this place, I suggest you let me take this girl in.? Faye blinked up at him, unsure, remembering the big bounty hunter?s words. She had a price on her head, what would keep a bounty hunter like him from turning her in? He had said he wouldn?t let anything happen to her, but since when he had he cared about her? She had been an annoyance to him, something to tolerate. He would leave her again, like he did before, without a glance back. And then she would be alone.
Michael was growing uncomfortable with the world ?cop? spoken so loudly in his place and he stepped back, regret on his face. ?Do what you will, officer,? he said, and didn?t look at her as Spike pulled her past and out in the street. Soon, the bar faded from view as she dragged her down street after street, towards the inner city. By the time they stopped in front of an apartment building, she was exhausted and the shock was beginning to wear off. Trembling, she waited as he unlocked the door and then followed him up a flight of stairs to the second floor. By the time they actually entered his apartment, she was shaking so badly she couldn?t walk. Spike dropped the bag near the door and helped her to the couch where she collapsed weakly. Flashes of the bounty hunter?s dead stare resolved in front of her and she shuddered, prompting Spike to get her a glass of water. Unfortunately, her fingers shook so much he had to help her steady it before she could actually swallow any.
?Why?? she whispered, when he had sat the glass on a table nearby, ?Why are you doing this?? A muscle in his jaw moved as he looked at her and she moved her eyes to her lap. ?You hate me, so why are you saving me??
His hand clenched and his voice was hoarse. ?I never hated you, Faye. I just?? She looked up at him again with watery green eyes. He swallowed. ?I couldn?t?be what you wanted me to be then.?
?So you left,? she said, with no voice at all. He nodded but she could tell he was unhappy. Suddenly, irrationally, she was angry with him. Was he truly so stupid? She clenched her own fists and threw his jacket back at him. ?So, you came back to make it all better again?? she asked through clenched teeth. ?Think you can just waltz back into my life like nothing happened? Well, you can?t, Spike. Don?t you see? When you left, there was nothing more for me. I left Jett and went out on my own, but I couldn?t do it. I ended up at Michael?s bar and started sleeping with men for money.? Her voice came like a hiss. ?Do you have any idea what I?ve been through? What I?ve done?? She suddenly jumped at him, beating her fists against his chest in useless rage. ?You broke me, Spike! I don?t even know who I fucking <i>am</i> any more!?
She stopped beating on him and he caught her shoulders, shaking her, angry himself. ?Do you have any idea what I?ve been through? What I?ve done?? he shouted, brown eyes blazing. ?Julia?s dead, Faye! They?re all dead! I wandered the star system for over a year seeking death, needing it, and when I almost had it, guess what?? He shook her again, as if to rattle an answer out of her. ?I saw your face, your face, not Julia?s. What do you think that did to me? I came back here, wanting just to get away, straighten things out, and for awhile, I thought I had moved on, forgotten about you. But then I see you in the street and you know what?? His voice had grown fierce. ?I haven?t forgotten a damn thing.?
And then he leaned forward and kissed her. Hard.
Her eyes widened momentarily before drifting shut, surrendering to his will. Dear god, what was she doing?
* * * *
Dear god, what was he doing?
He was kissing her. Kissing Faye Valentine, the girl he would have rather strangled two years ago. But now, all he could think about was being close to her, as close as possible. He wanted to devour every part of her but kissing was the only thing he could do. He needed her, wanted her like he hadn?t wanted anyone since?since?well, he wasn?t even sure he had ever wanted Julia like this. Their love had been more gentle, a comforting tide when his life had been chaos. It had never been this raging, fiery passion that consumed him, threatening to burn him to ash if he did not release it somehow. Two very different loves, for two very different women.
When Faye?s arms came up to curl around his neck, he groaned and deepened their kiss, his restraint slipping by the minute.
Tears and Cherries. She tasted like tears and cherries.
Seconds later, when the heat between them had grown almost unbearable, he felt those same tears on his cheek and he pulled back, his eyes soft. Faye?s eyes were still closed, her reddened lips slightly parted as he thumbed away the salty drops. After a moment, she opened her eyes and he found himself drowning and not caring. Her voice, though, pulled him back from the brink.
?Spike, please?I?? she licked her lips and he breathed out, knowing instinctively what she wanted, ??please??
Without a word, he folded her into his arms, pulling her to his chest with the same possessiveness that Michael had displayed earlier that day. She was shaking in his arms again, probably remembering the near-rape he had witnessed. That still made him angry and he felt no regret for killing the bastard. No woman was to be treated like that, especially not?a broken one.
<i>You broke me, Spike? </i>
He hugged her tighter, her head cushioned on his shoulder, his fingers in her silky hair.
?We?re both different people now, Faye,? he whispered to her, feeling her heart beat against him. ?I meant what I said, about not being able to be what you wanted back then, but now, if you?ll let me, I?ll try to make it up to you.? He kissed her forehead, his chest aching. ?I?ll put you back together, Faye, I promise.?
She raised her head slightly and lifted a hand, soft fingers tracing the line of his jaw. She had never been more beautiful than she was at that moment, lying against him, dried tears on her face. ?Can you?,? she whispered, and when he jerked, startled, she smiled devilishly, the first time he had seen her smile in years. He grinned back and cupped her cheek, feeling the flames jump between them at the contact. She kept the smile as she drew closer to him, their breath mingling, her arm around the back of his neck.
?I?m going to hold you to that, cowboy,? she said huskily.
And then she kissed <i>him</i>.
THE END
Tears and Cherries
The bar was dark, they all were, but in this one the shadows seemed almost tangible. Like they would suddenly take shape before her eyes, swallow her whole. Perhaps they already had. Did it matter? No, she decided, it didn?t matter. Nothing did. Except for money. Her whole world revolved around it. When had it become so small, so wilted? Her vision had once included places, people, whose names she now kept locked tightly inside. When had her world shrunk to the flash of gold in dim light? When had she become so empty?
She knew the answers to all these questions, of course. Asking them was only a sort of ritualistic torture she put herself through when she was feeling particularly low. Remembering would only bring her flashes of happiness and that she could not allow. She didn?t deserve happiness. She was an ugly, selfish bitch, empty of everything except a hollow sadness. Only angels deserve happiness, and she was no angel.
She was nothing.
Everyone thought so and so she did to. They believed it and so she believed it also. After hearing the words so many times, she could not longer resist them. She was nothing, and she knew it. Perhaps she had not always been so, perhaps there had been a time in her life when someone cared what happened to her, but not now. She was alone, utterly and completely. Except for him.
He was not a companion or a partner. Nothing so close as that. Those relationships implied trust, even affection, none of which she felt. He was her master, where before there had been none. He possessed her, in every sense of the word. She belonged to him, a slave to his whim, rewarded with the only thing that still spoke to her. Money. It was not such a bad life, she deluded herself. She had money and a roof over her head, what more could a girl ask for? Not for happiness, that was for sure. In the end, all their was was survival. If she could make it through another day, that was all she could ask out of life. Why didn?t she just give up? Let death wrap its icy arms around her? She could not. There was no reason just, she couldn?t. She didn?t know why.
So she went on living, but a pale echo of who she used to be. Had she once been vibrant and beautiful? She thought she vaguely remembered the emotions, but she couldn?t drag them up. The shadows had swallowed them, as they had swallowed everything, even herself.
?Faye.?
She glanced up from her seat a the bar, plucking the cigarette from her crimson lips with a detached air. Her green eyes, no longer emerald, no long shining, met Michael?s a few feet away. He stepped closer, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards a table in the back of the room, where the smoke was the most dense. His breath smelled of beer as he leaned close to her, his voice raspy. Almost, one would think he was a drunken fool, a creature of the Mars underworld, but one would be wrong. He was intelligent, dangerously so, with a mind as quick as his trigger finger. Her master was anything but weak, and hardly ever drunk. That was for her customers.
?The man in the corner, in black. He makes a pretty good offer,? he said, his gaze on Faye?s face. She looked over his shoulder.
?How much?? That was all that mattered.
?1,000 for the night.?
Faye?s eyes narrowed but then she shrugged. Who was she to question? If the guy was willing to pay that much, what did she care for his reasons? Michael?s eyes held a greedy glint as he looked her up and down, gauging her appearance. She stood still, letting him have a look, she already knew what he would see. A petite woman with an almost frail appearance from too few meals and too little sleep. A full figure but not as full as it had been, her mind showed her, showed off by the short, black leather skirt that showed a great deal of her pale thighs and the black tank top that criss-crossed in the back, showing off more of her smooth skin. Her silky black hair almost reached her shoulders, unadorned, thought she could remember wearing a headband at one point in her meaningless life. Her face was a masterpiece of makeup, smoky eye shadow rimmed her eyes, making them large and almost innocent, her lips painted a red that spoke of danger and mystery. She was the perfect image of a woman for hire, which was half the reason she never lacked for jobs. The other half, the half she didn?t know, was that is was the very hidden innocence in her sorrowful expression that drew men to her like moths to the flame. There was too little innocence in the world as it was, and if they could find it in her, a whore, than so be it. There were crazier things.
Michael pinched her breast through her shirt. ?You?ll do, I guess.? He slapped her behind as she stood, straightening her skirt. ?Go to it. You know where to find me in the morning.?
She nodded and walked away from him, crossing the stained wooden floor towards the man in the corner, putting a sway in her walk that came like second nature. When she ended up only a foot away, he stood and she got her first look at him. Not that it mattered. He could have been a walking mummy and she still would have smiled at him, led him temptingly up to her room above the bar. After all, she had debts to pay, she didn?t have time to be picky.
In a blur the door closed, a signal for her start. She did, closing her mind off and allowing her seasoned responses to take over. He never knew as she allowed him to rid her of her clothes while ridding him of his. He never knew as she laid herself down on her bed, her slim body calling to him. He never knew as his hands touched her, his tongue filling her mouth with some intense need seeking to be filled. He never knew as he plunged inside her, raging against his own demons, the world. He never knew as her body betrayed her and she arched against him, her eyes shut in denial. He never knew as he collapsed, spent, his body crushing her as she lay sweaty in the sheets, her vacant green eyes focused unblinking on the ceiling over his shoulder.
He never knew?that she was already gone.
* * * *
The morning came, the same as every other day. She awoke alone as usual, feeling dirty and ugly. She slid from the ruined sheets with a grace she didn?t feel and padded naked into her bathroom, closing the door to block out the world. The mornings after were always the hardest. Memories would rush at her, clamoring to be let in. The feel of his hands on her would come back, clearer than the actual moment had been, making her nauseous. And it was the same, every morning. A ritual she had long since gotten used to and barely blinked at anymore.
She turned the shower on as hot as it would go and stepped in, hardly aware as the water scalded her fair skin. She only wanted to be clean again. She shampooed her hair, letting the soap suds slide down her body, before rinsing once more and turning the shower head off. She stood still for a moment, water dripping off the end of her hair and beading on skin. The memories came for her.
<i>What are you doing, Faye?
I?m leaving, Jett, what the hell does it look like?
It looks like you?re running away.
There?s nothing left for me to run away from. </i>
She squeezed her eyes shut, blotting out the voices. She didn?t want to hear them, not now. They were too painful, they made her heart ache in her chest and robbed her lungs of air. Besides, that was two years ago, it was in the past. And someone had once told her she couldn?t live in the past.
Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Without makeup she almost recognized herself in the depths of her own eyes. With her hair disheveled and her gaze clear, she really did look like a child. A lonely child made of grief.
<i>I?m not going there to die, Faye. I?m going to find out if I?m alive? </i>
She whimpered, hands over her temples as if she could somehow block out his voice. Tears she hadn?t cried since that moment two years ago leaked out of the corners of her tightly closed lids. Bonelessly, she dropped to the floor, her knees hitting the wooden planks with a muffled thud. She hunched over, trying to hide.
?Please,? she whispered, anguished, ?Please, no more. Leave me alone.? His image appeared in her mind?s eye and she sobbed aloud. Would he never let her be? Would she never be free of him? Even dead, he haunted her still. Suddenly angry, she wiped away her tears and stood, looking into the mirror with determination. ?Spike, just let me go.? Her lower lip trembled and she bit it, ?Just let me go, there?s no point in this anymore. You?re dead and I?m alive.? A harsh laugh escaped her throat, almost startling her. It was more real than she was. ?Barely.?
Taking a deep breath, she settled herself, banishing his memory to the back of her mind. She had money to collect.
* * * *
She descended the back stairs in her usual attire and entered the bar, ignoring the shadows as she collected her pay from Michael, minus his cut and the percent due to her creditors. Slipping it into her handbag quickly, she hurried out into the sunshine, blinking against the sudden light. The hustle and bustle of the city hit her like a wave and she looked around, finding herself engulfed in the crowd, just one more person on a person-filled street. It was nice, the feeling of anonymity. She was still nothing, but so was everyone else.
She turned to the right and started walking, almost content with the sun kissing her skin. It was ruined slightly by the hot looks from passing males, the jealous looks from passing females. For the most part, she ignored them. She had gotten the same looks from the moment of her awakening, they meant nothing. Men had always desired her and women had always envied her. Now, she happened to use those feelings to stay alive.
She reached the marketplace quickly, reeling with all the delicious smells. She hadn?t eaten since yesterday morning and she suddenly felt light-headed at the prospect of food. She had a small kitchen in her apartment which she hardly ever used, but now that she had some money she could buy some groceries for herself. Grinning with a devilish glee, she picked up a bag of rice and a basket of vegetables, along with a small bag of cherries. They were one of her favorite foods and a complete indulgence, but her spirits needed lifting so she allowed herself a couple as she made her way back. Near the bar, she stopped for a pack of cigarettes and a new lighter, before entering the alleyways that would take her back to the only place she had to call home. Abruptly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of green hair and she stilled, every muscle turning to stone. She knew it was just her imagination but she couldn?t help the sudden racing of her heart. She had sworn she had seen him a dozen times, a flicker of brown eyes here, a familiar silhouette there, his face in the blackness behind her eyelids. It was all just in her mind, a part of her former life that had never really ended. Still, knowing all that didn?t stop her from turning to look and her eyes widened as her green gaze fell on the one man who could break her into a thousand pieces with one word. He must have felt her stare, for he turned and their eyes locked, his mismatched eyes showing his surprise. He was exactly the same, dressed in that stupid suit of his, his hair as unruly as ever, his face?there was more sadness there than before but she couldn?t see it. She was blind to anything but the simple fact that he was there, standing in her street, looking too damn handsome for his own good.
For a moment, drowning in his eyes, she was just Faye Valentine again, the shrew bounty hunter who shot first and asked questions later. She could fight with the best of them and her looks had always gotten her what she wanted.
Her looks?
Reality came crashing back and she made a small sound in her throat, like a wounded animal. She did the only thing she could do in her situation.
She turned and fled.
* * * *
He couldn?t believe it. It was Faye. Faye. She looked so different, standing there in the street all in black, her green eyes large in her pretty face. He had never expected to see anyone he knew here, never expected to find her. Hell, he hadn?t wanted to see anyone, and yet, now that he had, something clicked into place and he couldn?t let her go. So, when she turned and ran, he did the only thing he could do in his situation.
He went after her.
He really didn?t know what he was thinking. He had spent two years trying to get away from all the memories, away from the pain. He knew he was running and he didn?t care. He left everything behind to start again on his home planet, becoming a single man in a mass of people. He told himself that it was best this way, breaking all his ties. Jett and the others would forget about him in time. Apparently though, the Bebop crew had gone their separate ways after he left, which sparked a small feeling of guilt within him. Why was she here all alone? What was she doing?
?Damn it, stop running!? he shouted after her, which only caused her to quicken her pace. He growled under his breath and pushed past people, not bothering to offer apologies as they cursed him. He caught up with her in an alleyway and grabbed her arm, pulling her backwards. The packages she had been carrying fell to the street and she turned to face him, tears glittering in her eyes. He was taken aback instantly. She was crying. Faye was crying. He remembered seeing her in tears only once before and the memory itself made him uncomfortable. Faye didn?t cry.
She pulled against his hold on her wrist, upset. ?Please, you?re dead, just leave me alone.? He frowned, her words only making him tighten his grip. What was wrong with her?
?Faye, I?m not dead, I?m right h? ?
She moaned and tried to free herself. ?No, you?re not, you left! You left!? Her voice had risen to a shout, the sound reminding him of their fiery arguments aboard the Bebop. As before, he lost patience. He released her wrist only to grab her shoulders and pin her against the wall of alleyway, holding her there so that he could look at her. She turned her head away, tears falling to his feet.
?That?s right, I left,? he said, his voice low and dangerous, ?I left, and so did you, but I survived.? She trembled under his fingers and his brow furrowed. What was wrong with her? ?I survived,? he repeated more gently, ?did you??
She didn?t respond and he shook her, frustrated and, if he cared to admit it to himself, more than a little worried. Where was the spirited little spitfire that had saved his neck more than a couple times?
Where was Faye Valentine?
For surely this woman was not her. This broken, tearful female that?that?seemed so lost. He sighed, cursing himself. He shouldn?t have gotten involved. He should have let her run away. She had changed and, in truth, so had he, but as usual, he was unable to bury the past. Unable to bury her face when it appeared in his dreams.
?Faye, what?s going on here??
Beneath his palms, Faye tensed and he released her, one hand automatically reaching for the gun hidden at his belt. A man stood at the alleyway entrance, clean shaven with blonde hair and brown eyes. His eyes flashed dangerously at Spike.
?Is this man hurting you??
Faye straightened from the wall, breath coming shakily in her throat. She glanced warily at Spike, almost afraid of him, before kneeling and gathering up her packages with quick fingers.
?I?m fine, Michael. We were just?talking.? She left, hurrying to this Michael?s side as he could only watch, wondering what was going on. As Faye neared him, the golden-haired man reached out and put an arm around her waist possessively with a smirk in Spike?s direction. Spike felt a stab of jealously pierce his heart before blinking, surprised at his reaction. What did he care if Faye had a boyfriend? He had only wanted to speak with her and she had acted as if he had come to collect a bounty on her. To hell with the woman.
?I?m glad you realized you were alive, Spike,? she told him softly, as Michael led her away, ?but things have changed. You should just leave.? And with that, she left him, striding away, shoulders hunched as if she had been defeated in a war he wasn?t aware of.
He closed his eyes briefly, wondering if the whole world had gone mad, before turning on his heel and walking away, hands in his pockets. If she wanted him to go, he would. He didn?t need her.
He never had.
* * * *
She busied herself in her kitchen. If she kept moving, she couldn?t think, and if she couldn?t think, she wouldn?t think about him.
?Damn,? she hissed, realizing that method wasn?t working. The more she thought about not thinking about him, the more she thought about him, and the more miserable she became. Growling, she flung the knife she had been using to cut vegetable into the wood of the doorway, watching with a grim satisfaction as the hilt vibrated from the force of her throw. Then she stopped, realizing what she had just done. She hadn?t used a knife or a gun for that matter as a weapon in a long time. Those had been put away along with everything having to do with the bounty hunter, Faye Valentine.
And yet?
Since seeing Spike in the street, she had felt more in those few hours than in the last two years combined. Sure, the topmost emotion was anger, but it was still something. Why did he always do this to her? She was afraid of him now, afraid of the look on his face if he learned what she had become. It had been close in the alleyway, and to protect him, and herself, she had sent him away. She was no longer the proud, independent woman he had known. She had had to survive and it had changed her. Survival always changed everything.
?It?s better this way, Spike,? she told herself, ?Really, it is. I won?t be hurt again, and neither will you.?
?Hey, babe.?
She turned, surprised, to find a man in her doorway. He was tall and broad across the shoulders, his hair and eyes darker than night. She had never seen him before, and suddenly, the look on his face made her wish she still had the knife in her hand. She gripped the counter top.
?Who are you? What do you want?? she asked, sharply, uncomfortable with the fact that he had just waltzed into her room. He chuckled, raising goosebumps on her skin.
?Michael sent me up, said you wanted to see me.? He took a step forward, the door closing behind him with a click that seemed almost final. She frowned, it wasn?t like Michael to secure jobs without telling her, but then again, there could be a million reasons he had done so. Maybe the guy was in a hurry and willing to pay a butt load. If that was the case, there was nothing she could do.
Swallowing a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair and straightened, turning so that the guy could get a good look at her. You sure do know your stuff, Faye Valentine, her angry inner voice seethed. You know exactly how to make a man think he?s a god. On the outside she put on a pouty smile as the stranger walked forward. His hand reached out and pulled her to him, his hands rough as he clamped down on her waist, his mouth sucking greedily on her neck. She blinked, not really used to such treatment, usually Michael had an eye for men who wouldn?t damage his goods. Bruised women did not catch customers. Well, maybe this one liked it rough.
Her anxiety level rose, though, when she moved to unbutton his shirt. He tensed and suddenly pushed her backwards onto the bed, a feral look in his eyes. She frowned, fear and anger warring within her. What was with this guy? As she watched, eyes wide, he flung his shirt to the side and lowered himself on top of her, straddling her hips. She grunted, his weight too much for her small frame but before she could suggest a change of position, his mouth had clamped down on hers and she suddenly felt very sick. His tongue choked her even as he hands ripped her tank top down the front, bringing a gasp from her. Immediately, his hands began to knead her bare breasts forcefully, something like a groan coming from his throat. She squirmed under him and turned her head to break the kiss, overwhelmed.
?Too hard,? she said breathlessly, wincing at the pain he inflicted, ?Gently, big guy.?
He reeled back, ?Shut up, bitch!? His hand slapped across her face, turning her head clear to the left. The anger that had been quietly simmering beneath the surface ever since Spike?s appearance exploded.
?Listen, mister, I don?t know what you were expecting, but you can?t? ?
His hands went to her throat, cutting off her air as her hands curled around his wrists, vainly trying to pull him away. Her eyes went wide as he bent down, his horrible breath washing over her.
?You?ve made a lot of enemies, Faye Valentine. Did you think you could hide here, forever?? She choked, suddenly realizing the truth. Michael had never sent this guy. ?I was sent to collect the bounty on your pretty little head,? His eyes wandered down her half-naked figure, ?but I think I?ll have a little fun before I drag your ass in.? He grinned and her anger ran ice cold, crystallizing into fear as he released her neck and pinned her arms over her head with one hand, his heavily muscled torso making it possible to keep her stationary. His free hand went to his belt buckle and she felt the icy fingers of dread work their way up her spine. She would not let it go this way. It was different when it was with a customer. The choice was always hers, she could decline if she wished, though she would be letting a paycheck walk out the door. This was just?rape, and she refused to be a victim.
Taking a deep breath she screamed with all her strength, only realizing how futile it was when the bounty hunter laughed.
?Scream my name, Valentine, no one cares here.? He bent down and kissed her, making her stomach turn. She struggled, attempting to raise her leg to knee him in the back, but he simply sat down heavily on her hips, instantly stilling any movement. She was helpless.
She hated being helpless.
Tears escaped the corner of her eyes and dripped onto the sheets. She cried out as the bounty hunter kicked off his pants, his bulge clear. She cried out again, terrified.
The door splintered inward.
With the force of a powerful kick, it exploded completely, debris scattering on the floor. She raised her head, startled, and the bounty hunter turned to see who it was. Against every wish in her heart except one, Spike stood in the doorway, his face set, rage flashing in his eyes, his gun pointed at the floor.
?Buzz off, pal,? the bounty hunter said savagely, ?Find your own entertainment. This one?s mine.?
Spike raised his gun.
?No,? he said quite calmly, ?She?s mine.?
And he fired.
* * * *
She jerked at the sound of the shot and cried out as the huge bounty hunter collapsed on top of her, a bullet in his forehead. His wide, unseeing eyes stared directly into hers and she screamed, this last fright simply too much for her to handle. In an instant, the guy was ripped away, Spike standing by the bedside, leaving her free to breathe. She sat up gingerly, crossing her arms over her chest, her gaze directed anywhere but at the man she had once loved. She could not believe he had seen her like this. What must he think of her?
?Faye,? his voice was soft, but she flinched, and after a moment, he shrugged out of his jacket and tucked it around her almost tenderly. Forgetting herself, she glanced up at him, pulling the fabric closed, and their gazes locked, green and brown, emerald and amber. He still radiated leashed fury but his face was gentle as he looked at her.
?I don?t understand,? she stuttered, ?why?why are you??? <i>?being so nice? </i>
He shook his head, ?It?s doesn?t matter. Not yet.? He glanced at the door. ?Come on, Faye, you?re coming with me.? She blinked, too many surprises hitting her at once.
?What?? she managed faintly. He holstered his gun and went to her closet to begin pulling out clothes and throwing them on the bed.
?You?re coming with me.?
She tried to process this. ?I?I can?t, I work here now. If I just left, Michael would?? He came to the bed, a new tank top in his hands. She looked up at him, out of sorts.
?I don?t care, Faye,? he said evenly, handing the top to her. She took it numbly. ?You?re not staying here. Not anymore.? He stood there then, watching her, and she realized she was supposed to be dressing. Her fingers wouldn?t move, she had no energy, shock was the only thing she felt. Spike seemed to realize this and he bent down, taking the top back from her quietly. Then, holding her eyes with his own, he pulled his jacket away. She shivered but he did not break their locked stare, even when he slipped her arms through the straps, as if he felt the need to prove himself to her. It wasn?t necessary, she already trusted him, always had. It?s what made her vulnerable.
He pulled the tank top down to her waist, his large hands brushing her sides like butterfly wings. He blinked at the contact but when she showed no reaction he straightened and dropped his jacket around her shoulders again, as if it could still offer some meager protection. She gripped the edges of it, watching him like a child to see what else he would do. He brought out a bag from the closet and stuffed her clothes in it, being thoughtful enough to grab her make up bag from the bathroom sink. He even packed some of the food she had bought that morning, including the cherries, slinging the bag over his shoulder when he was finished. He glanced at her and then offered her his hand, ignoring the dead man that lay only a few feet away.
?You?re in shock, Faye, but you have to believe me, I won?t let anything happen to you.? His hand stayed out, inviting her.
<i>But, Spike, who will protect me from you?</i>
She slipped her small hand into his, unable to speak her thoughts, her voice locked. She saw him relax slightly and he pulled her up, steadying her as she tried to get her legs to hold her weight. When she was ready, they left her room, never glancing back. He helped her down the stairs and into the bar, where Michael looked up, his brows knitting as he saw who was with her. He strode to her side.
?Faye, what are you doing? Who is this man?? he asked darkly. Faye opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Spike spoke instead.
?I?m afraid I?m taking this young woman,? he said smoothly, making sure the man saw his gun. ?She?s an outlaw and if there?s one, there?s always more. I don?t want to have to come back here, you get my meaning??
Michael frowned. ?You?re a cop??
Spike shifted his weight, suddenly becoming more dangerous. ?That?s right, bub, and if you don?t want us crawling all over this place, I suggest you let me take this girl in.? Faye blinked up at him, unsure, remembering the big bounty hunter?s words. She had a price on her head, what would keep a bounty hunter like him from turning her in? He had said he wouldn?t let anything happen to her, but since when he had he cared about her? She had been an annoyance to him, something to tolerate. He would leave her again, like he did before, without a glance back. And then she would be alone.
Michael was growing uncomfortable with the world ?cop? spoken so loudly in his place and he stepped back, regret on his face. ?Do what you will, officer,? he said, and didn?t look at her as Spike pulled her past and out in the street. Soon, the bar faded from view as she dragged her down street after street, towards the inner city. By the time they stopped in front of an apartment building, she was exhausted and the shock was beginning to wear off. Trembling, she waited as he unlocked the door and then followed him up a flight of stairs to the second floor. By the time they actually entered his apartment, she was shaking so badly she couldn?t walk. Spike dropped the bag near the door and helped her to the couch where she collapsed weakly. Flashes of the bounty hunter?s dead stare resolved in front of her and she shuddered, prompting Spike to get her a glass of water. Unfortunately, her fingers shook so much he had to help her steady it before she could actually swallow any.
?Why?? she whispered, when he had sat the glass on a table nearby, ?Why are you doing this?? A muscle in his jaw moved as he looked at her and she moved her eyes to her lap. ?You hate me, so why are you saving me??
His hand clenched and his voice was hoarse. ?I never hated you, Faye. I just?? She looked up at him again with watery green eyes. He swallowed. ?I couldn?t?be what you wanted me to be then.?
?So you left,? she said, with no voice at all. He nodded but she could tell he was unhappy. Suddenly, irrationally, she was angry with him. Was he truly so stupid? She clenched her own fists and threw his jacket back at him. ?So, you came back to make it all better again?? she asked through clenched teeth. ?Think you can just waltz back into my life like nothing happened? Well, you can?t, Spike. Don?t you see? When you left, there was nothing more for me. I left Jett and went out on my own, but I couldn?t do it. I ended up at Michael?s bar and started sleeping with men for money.? Her voice came like a hiss. ?Do you have any idea what I?ve been through? What I?ve done?? She suddenly jumped at him, beating her fists against his chest in useless rage. ?You broke me, Spike! I don?t even know who I fucking <i>am</i> any more!?
She stopped beating on him and he caught her shoulders, shaking her, angry himself. ?Do you have any idea what I?ve been through? What I?ve done?? he shouted, brown eyes blazing. ?Julia?s dead, Faye! They?re all dead! I wandered the star system for over a year seeking death, needing it, and when I almost had it, guess what?? He shook her again, as if to rattle an answer out of her. ?I saw your face, your face, not Julia?s. What do you think that did to me? I came back here, wanting just to get away, straighten things out, and for awhile, I thought I had moved on, forgotten about you. But then I see you in the street and you know what?? His voice had grown fierce. ?I haven?t forgotten a damn thing.?
And then he leaned forward and kissed her. Hard.
Her eyes widened momentarily before drifting shut, surrendering to his will. Dear god, what was she doing?
* * * *
Dear god, what was he doing?
He was kissing her. Kissing Faye Valentine, the girl he would have rather strangled two years ago. But now, all he could think about was being close to her, as close as possible. He wanted to devour every part of her but kissing was the only thing he could do. He needed her, wanted her like he hadn?t wanted anyone since?since?well, he wasn?t even sure he had ever wanted Julia like this. Their love had been more gentle, a comforting tide when his life had been chaos. It had never been this raging, fiery passion that consumed him, threatening to burn him to ash if he did not release it somehow. Two very different loves, for two very different women.
When Faye?s arms came up to curl around his neck, he groaned and deepened their kiss, his restraint slipping by the minute.
Tears and Cherries. She tasted like tears and cherries.
Seconds later, when the heat between them had grown almost unbearable, he felt those same tears on his cheek and he pulled back, his eyes soft. Faye?s eyes were still closed, her reddened lips slightly parted as he thumbed away the salty drops. After a moment, she opened her eyes and he found himself drowning and not caring. Her voice, though, pulled him back from the brink.
?Spike, please?I?? she licked her lips and he breathed out, knowing instinctively what she wanted, ??please??
Without a word, he folded her into his arms, pulling her to his chest with the same possessiveness that Michael had displayed earlier that day. She was shaking in his arms again, probably remembering the near-rape he had witnessed. That still made him angry and he felt no regret for killing the bastard. No woman was to be treated like that, especially not?a broken one.
<i>You broke me, Spike? </i>
He hugged her tighter, her head cushioned on his shoulder, his fingers in her silky hair.
?We?re both different people now, Faye,? he whispered to her, feeling her heart beat against him. ?I meant what I said, about not being able to be what you wanted back then, but now, if you?ll let me, I?ll try to make it up to you.? He kissed her forehead, his chest aching. ?I?ll put you back together, Faye, I promise.?
She raised her head slightly and lifted a hand, soft fingers tracing the line of his jaw. She had never been more beautiful than she was at that moment, lying against him, dried tears on her face. ?Can you?,? she whispered, and when he jerked, startled, she smiled devilishly, the first time he had seen her smile in years. He grinned back and cupped her cheek, feeling the flames jump between them at the contact. She kept the smile as she drew closer to him, their breath mingling, her arm around the back of his neck.
?I?m going to hold you to that, cowboy,? she said huskily.
And then she kissed <i>him</i>.
THE END
