I came up with this title that I thought was ever so clever, all I had to do was write a story for it. This is what came tumbling out of my head. Who's a bigger antihero than Spike, right? R&R, por favor.

My Antihero

He's infuriating. Everything about him grates on my nerves. From the way he walks, to the way he talks. Whenever someone even so much as mentions his name, my insides begin to boil. It all makes me want to scream. How can someone so awful even exist? Life is so crewel to me. What did I do wrong to deserve being stuck here with him?

He hates me too. I think that's one of the reasons why I can't stand him. Ever since I first met him in the casino I knew he was no good. Romanies and Gorgios just don't mix. I really don't know why I decided to team up with them. It never leads to anything good. I must be a masochist.

I can't get that smug voice out of my head. Mocking me, telling me how incompetent I am. Like he's so perfect! It's driving me crazy. And that cocky smile of his, I should wipe it right off his face. To think I lowered myself to asking for his help. Ugh, I need a shower.

He showed up though. After what seemed like hours of being strung up, he came. And what did he do? The bastard gambled with my life! That lackey had a gun to my head and he just shot him! Idiot, can you believe his nerve? And then he goes and starts a huge firefight, in which I almost get killed, again! I got out, though. I'm far too beautiful to die.

I called Jet. It's not like I was worried or anything. I mean, I don't care what he does, or if doing it ends up killing him. I just thought it common courtesy to inform Jet of his partner's present condition, that's all. Really. When Jet brought him back to the ship he was more than beat up. I honestly thought he was going to die for a second there. Then I remembered who I was looking at. The bastard.

What should I care, right? The jerk almost killed me. He doesn't deserve my sympathy or my concern, like I would have any to give him anyway. I don't even know why I'm still sitting here, watching him. Like I can protect him. It's every man for himself when it comes to bounty hunters. When you forget that you end up getting hurt. The idiot.

Why am I even wasting my time thinking about him? I need something to distract myself. Ah, cards. Wonderful cards. I have an ear load of debt thanks to damn cards. Well, that and… But what does that matter now. I'm just gonna start playing solitaire. A game every gypsy can identify with.

When did I start humming? Oh well, at least it sounds nice. It's weird in a way. I don't know what's it called, or where I've even heard it. Hell, I'm probably just making it up. But still, it feels sort of familiar. Is it from my past? I really wish I could remember. Wait… what's that groaning noise? Oh. It's just him. He's looking at me. The jerk.

"You finally up, huh? You slept too much. You've been asleep three days." He's still looking at me. Why is it so unnerving? "Yeah, I was starting to worry about you." Damnit, I didn't mean that! "Hey, you should be grateful to me for staying here." Oh, very nice recovery, Faye.

Why is he still looking at me? He looks so damn calm and relaxed, even after he just got his ass kicked. Huh? He's moving his arm. It looks pretty painful. Good, the loser deserves it. Now what? He wants me to move closer? Fine, I'll be nice this one time and oblige him. It better be worth standing up. His bandaged face is so close to mine now. You know, I never noticed his eyes were two different colors.

"…" Say something.

"Hmm?" Why do I have butterflies?

"…You sing off key."

"…"

That jerk! He's dead! I wonder how he'll like the taste of his own pillow. Ha! I don't care if it hurt. In fact, I hope it did. A lot. Ugh, I can't stand being here a second longer. So what if he risked his life to inadvertently save mine. I hope he's allergic to feathers. The asshole.